


A Time To Heal

by Bastet5



Series: The Wild Hunt [17]
Category: FBI: Most Wanted (TV 2020)
Genre: Adoption, Christmas, FBI: MW 1x06 Predators, FBI: MW 1x07 Ghosts, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Home Life, Injury Recovery, Native American/First Nations Culture, Slice of Life, Team as Family, country life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:41:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 35,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25361086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bastet5/pseuds/Bastet5
Summary: December 2019 - January 2020After her nearly fatal injuries in Greater Love Hath None, Kateri recovers at Skye Farm.
Relationships: Clinton Skye & Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Wild Hunt [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678864
Comments: 106
Kudos: 15





	1. Home Sweet (Temporary) Home

Kateri’s day of liberation from Bellevue Hospital, from the room that had been her home for the last two weeks exactly dawned early. The curtains across the windows kept the light in her room to a dim level that was actually nice … _nothing worse than waking up ‘cause of a face full of sun when you actually had designs on sleeping in …_ but a combination of nerves and excitement woke her early … _like when you’re a kid and you can’t sleep, wake up bloody early right before a big, exciting trip_. Kateri’s pain medicine was also starting to wear off, so once she was awake, it was hard to go back to sleep.

_The nurse’ll be by in another hour or so with the last dose of meds before I leave. You can wait until then._

_No, don’t breathe shallowly. Yes, it bloody hurts. Breathing hurts whatever you do. The last thing you want is pneumonia all over again._

Kateri shifted slightly on the hard bed, trying to find a slightly more comfortable position that would aid resting for a while. Even uninjured, she would not have called her hospital bed comfortable by any stretch of the imagination, and it was a far cry from her own bed at her apartment or even the bunks in the bus.

_If I sleep in a bed, I expect it to be comfortable. It would almost be less bad to sleep on the bus floor just because I don’t have the unfulfilled expectations._

_Sleeping on the floor feels like sleeping on the floor. I expect that. I understand that. Sleeping on a bed shouldn’t feel like almost sleeping on the floor_.

The bed was hard and put pressure on places that would have preferred not being pressured and made Kateri ache. She was going to be extremely glad to sleep in a real bed at the Skye’s that night.

Even though life was not going to go back to normal for a while longer for Kateri— _ribs take a bloody long time to heal. So do abdominal wounds_ —the prospect of just getting out of the hospital and getting to see something besides her hospital room, the hallways on her floor, or the rooms used for physical therapy was rather sadly exciting.

_Thus, why I’m awake._

_It’s like being a kid again. Can’t sleep the night before a cool trip or an exciting event_.

The lights were too low to read. Her book and her phone were out of reach on a nearby table. _And the nurse’ll fuss if I try to get up to adjust the former or grab the latter. My ribs would also complain._ Kateri’s strength had increased greatly over the past week but was still laughably small compared to her pre-injury levels. She could use the bathroom on her own and even make a half-a-lap of the floor … _I’m_ _moving slowly mind you_ … without needing to stop to rest, but the nurse still preferred to be nearby or, at least, aware when _I go on walk about_.

The TV remote was also out of reach, and Kateri was quite sure that watching TV at whatever hour of the morning it was— _too early_ —would not win her any friends. _Sound proof, these rooms are mostly certainly not, and there’s probably not anything worth watching right now anyway._

Kateri half-vegged, half-dozed for a while, but finally a bright-eyed, blond nurse, who looked vaguely familiar but whose name Kateri couldn’t place, came through on her morning rounds to draw blood for one final round of checks. _To make sure nothing new’s come up_. Getting pricked with yet another needle was mildly annoying but comparatively minor. _As long as you’re not pricking my fingers, I can ignore it_. That was over quickly.

“Before you leave, could you pass me my book and my phone, please?” Kateri asked. Her phone and her battered copy of _The Two Towers_ —Kenny had finished reading through _The Fellowship of the Ring_ while she had been unconscious—was sitting on the tray table out of reach. _I’ll need to make sure to grab it, my cards, and Albert the Bear before I leave_. _‘Specially the latter. I’ll need a new book eventually. Can’t replace the bear! Tali’s such a sweet kid to think of me._

The nurse smiled, “Of course. Is there anything else you need?”

“Thanks,” Kateri replied, taking the book from her hand. _Hmmmm … Anything else?_ “Can you spring me a little early?” A twinkle of mischief crossed her face.

“Sorry, dear. That I can’t do.”

With a final word of good wishes for Kateri’s recovery, the nurse departed, and Kateri flipped her book open to the place she had last stopped. Food and her last round of meds were not on the books for a little while longer, and distraction would help her ignore the pain that came with just breathing. _Broken ribs are the bloody worst_. _I think I’d rather be shot_.

“Chapter 7: Helm’s Deep

The sun was already westering as they rode from Edoras, and the light of it was in their eyes, turning all the rolling fields of Rohan to a golden haze. There was a beaten way, north-westward along the foot-hills of the White Mountains …”[1]

* * *

Sometime later, breakfast arrived and with it came meds. Eggs ( _overcooked, and not that good even when properly cooked. Maybe powdered eggs_ ) and soft bread ( _actually decent_ ) with a cup of colored water pretending to be tea ( _I prefer coffee, but that’s still an insult to actual tea_ ) and a cup of applesauce. Kateri gave the tray a dark look once the orderly had left. _Don’t shoot the messenger_. Bellevue Hospital was well regarded for some things, and the work of its surgeons had saved her life, but _their patient meals need some more work_. _Yet another reason to be glad to get out of here._ Nothing had given her food poisoning, but things were often cold or tasteless or over cooked or overly seasoned, _etc., etc. I’ve been spoiled to my own cooking and decent diners, fast-food places on missions_.

Even eating slowly— _the nausea from the meds has been over for days, but still … don’t push your luck_ —it didn’t take that long for Kateri to eat the bread and applesauce and take one sip of the tea to wash it all down and then push the rest of the tray way.

Her partner appeared in the doorway of her room not long after.

“Morning,” Clinton paused abruptly, eyes going to her tray, “That looks appetizing.”

 _Insert sarcasm_.

Kateri scowled, “Hospital food being bad seems to be a universal constant … almost.” _If there is one with good food, I’ve never heard of it._

Clinton gave a commiserating nod, face somehow a mixture of disgust and nostalgia as he took a seat next to the bed, “My sister,”— _God rest her soul_ —“was never a very good cook despite my mother’s best efforts, but even Angie could make scrambled eggs without either over- or undercooking them.”

“A challenge Bellevue has not managed to conquer so far.” _Everyday I’ve gotten eggs, they’ve either been one or the other. Not not-cooked runny, but still runny, which is so gross_.

“Mom would be horrified,” Clinton muttered under his breath with another looked at the overcooked eggs. He drew his attention back to his partner. “Aside from the food, how are you?”

“A little stir-crazy,” Kateri replied with a wry grin, “I’m ready to be out of here. Woke up early like a kid before Christmas. I’ll be even better once my pain meds kick in.”

 _Broken ribs hurt a bloody lot_.

“Jess dropped me off and went on to the office to grab a couple things, including your parka. Once he’s back and the doctors are ready to release you, we can go.”

Between the bullet hole, her heavy fall, the blood _I was spewing_ , warehouse grime, and the ministrations of the SWAT medics and the Bellevue doctors, Kateri’s leather jacket and favorite fleece jacket had both sadly bitten the dust. And considering the weather app on Kateri’s phone said it wasn’t supposed to get over 40 degrees that day— _it is December now_ —she’d want something a bit heavier anyway. _I’ve got two other fleece jackets—one of ‘em’s in my bag—but I’ll have to find a new leather jacket. I liked that thing. It was old and comfy_. She had it since her previous leather jacket had bitten the dust when she had been shot back in late 2015.[2] _That was a fun day. One of the earlier times I almost gave Clinton a heart attack._

* * *

An hour passed. The report on Kateri’s final round of blood-work came back. All was good on that angle, and there was no hindrance from her being discharged. _Hurray!_ The doctor and one of her therapists came by one final time to give her some instructions and their best wishes, and then an aid was sent in to help her dress, while Clinton left to help with the discharge paperwork and gather her prescriptions. _What would I do without you? Not interesting in ever finding out!_

Kateri’s helper was a bright, cheery woman who was entirely too energetic and whose beaming smile grated a little bit on the agent’s nerves. The aid’s hair was an electric shade of red— _obviously out of a bottle. Nothing that shade occurs naturally in nature_ —and she introduced herself as Anna.

“One of my friends brought me clothes yesterday. They’re at the top of my duffel bag, and there’s a pair of running shoes in there, too,” said Kateri.

_Thankfully, my duffel is on the larger side so it can hold all I need … between it and my backpack._

“You’re all prepared, I see,” Anna replied, lifting the duffel up onto the end of the bed for ease of access. “Let’s see: shoes and socks, underclothes, cargo pants, and a flannel shirt. Do you want your belt?”

_One more thing cinched around my broken ribs!!!_

_Bloody h**l, no! Not a chance!_

Kateri shook her head. “Don’t need it. Not carrying anything on my belt right now. One less thing to put pressure on my ribs.” _Not carrying my Glock, so don’t need the belt to keep it up_. Carefully, she started to use her arms to help push herself upright from her previous position reclining against several firm pillows. (Lying flat with broken ribs was less than pleasant.)

 _It’s an unfortunate fact of biology? Physiology? That one cannot sit up without using one’s abdominal muscles, which is less than comfortable after major surgery and broken ribs_.

Kateri’s face had paled several shades by the time she was all the way upright, and she had to remind herself again to not shallow her breathing to try to compensate for the pain of moving. _Bloody h**l, that bloody hurts._ Carefully, Kateri swung her legs over the side of the bed.

“No, no,” Anna cautioned, glancing over from laying out the clothes across the foot of the bed so that everything was spread out and easily accessible, “Don’t get up yet. You’ll want to stay seated for now, and today you’ll want to let me do most of the work.”

“I’m not getting up.” _Just everything I do now takes times_.

Anna nodded and finished laying things out. _Bloody embarrassing needing help dressing._ One side of Kateri complained/lamented. _Get used to it, and get over yourself_. The more practical side hollered back. Her injuries were going to be a fact of life for at least six weeks, and getting caught up in the embarrassment, the annoyance, or ( _worse_ ) starting to feel sorry for herself would be less than productive. _Accepting help, needing help isn’t a bad thing, for heaven’s sake!_

“Pay attention to how we do things now. It’ll help you later.”

 _Yes, yes, I know. Wasn’t born yesterday_.

Barnes had gone through Kateri’s closet with a discerning eye and picked out the types and colors of things that she had seen Kateri wear most often. _Not that I have much variety in my closet_. (She tended to wear the same things over and over and tended to stick to multiple copies of the same handful of dark jewel tone colors or shades of grey that she liked best.) The clothes Barnes had brought for Kateri were basically the same Kateri would have grabbed for herself.

Getting dressed was laborious and painful, and by the time Anna had finished helping Kateri dress and knelt to tie her shoes— _yet another thing I can’t do myself. No bending over_ —Kateri was shaky, a little sweaty, and somewhat nauseous from the pain. _It’s a relief, though, to finally have on real clothes for the first time in two weeks_.

Not long after Anna had left, there was a quick, preemptory knock on the door. Kateri opened her eyes and looked up. Clinton was standing in the doorway, having returned from helping with paperwork and obtaining her prescriptions. He paused just inside the doorway and gave her a once over.

“You’re looking a little green,” he noted concerned.

 _The misfortunes of having broken ribs and a major abdominal surgery and having to move_.

“The most pleasant-sounding thing would be to lie still in bed and not move for several weeks,” Kateri replied, voice a little tight as she took several deep, slow breaths through her nose, willing her stomach back under her submission, “That, however, would be very bad for me.”

 _So I must endure_.

_You’ll adapt._

_It’ll just take time._

* * *

By 11am, everything was completed, including the final clearing of Kateri’s room of anything of hers— _don’t want to lose anything I can’t replace_ —mainly just her cards and the teddy bear on loan from Tali, which were all tucked away carefully into her backpack. _Hard-cover book is a convenient way of carrying cards._ Kateri was finally released from the hospital, and it was finally time to go home. _Not home home, but close enough._ There was just one last indignity to endure: being pushed in a wheelchair to the door. It was not that she really felt like walking all the way. _It’s just the principle of the thing_. Kateri disliked feeling or being seen as week or helpless. It was a defense mechanism.

Jess was waiting downstairs on the main floor of the hospital, just inside one of Bellevue Hospital’s multiple entrances— _you need a map to find anything in this place. ‘s like a city_ —as Kateri, with a different aid pushing her wheelchair, and Clinton, carrying her duffle and backpack, emerged from the elevator. Jess had Kateri’s parka tucked over one arm, and the aid took it and carefully helped Kateri get it on. _I won’t freeze now_. There wasn’t a flannel shirt made thick enough to alone protect someone from 40-degree temps.

Jess’ car—thankfully not one of the SUVs the team often drove—was parked near the entrance. Considering her height, some particularly tall SUVs … _and trucks …_ required a little bit of clambering to get into. _A few I almost need a step-ladder for._ This car did not require any clambering, though Kateri still got in gingerly, wary of jostling her broken ribs or pulling her stiches any more than happened in normal movements.

_Another unfortunate fact of biology? Physiology? One cannot sit down either without using one’s abdominal muscles._

Then they were on their way. Kateri was more than happy to bid Bellevue Hospital farewell after her two-week stay. It was time to go home, at last. _Not home home, but close enough, I suppose_. Despite the minute-by-minute physical reminder of her choice to take a bullet for her partner … _and what it might have cost the Skyes if I hadn’t …_ Kateri was still somewhat amazed by the generosity of Mr. and Mrs. Skye to be willing to have a semi-long-term guest in their house.

 _Injuries like these don’t heal overnight_.

The first-part of the drive to the Skye’s home in the Glen Cove area of Long Island passed quietly. Jess and Clinton were talking quietly in the front seat, and Kateri was half-dozing, half-vegging, with her eyes-closed and her head resting on the window. Her strength was gradually increasing, and she was slowly being able to do a little more at a time. Even so after exertions like she had already done that day, _I need a nap or just some time to sit-down and rest … like a kiddo or an old person. Sad that getting dressed and getting out here are exertions_. Kateri knew her new, temporary physical limitations were reasonable, given her extensive injuries, but they still grated on her. _Not used to being this weak_.

Once Jess exited off the highway and started driving along commercial streets and then smaller residential streets, Kateri forced herself to rouse and look around. Clinton broke off from his conversation with Jess and looked back at Kateri, who was sitting behind Jess, who was driving.

“You awake, kid?” Her partner asked.

“Wasn’t asleep,” Kateri replied, blinking slowly, “Just resting.” She quickly finger-combed her hair, making sure that hair looked relatively neat and tidy. It had grown a little longer than she usually kept it during her hospital stay. _Was already due for a haircut before this case. Now I really am, but that’ll prob’ly have to wait a while longer._

“We’ll be to the house in about ten minutes,” Jess added, as the car eased to a stop at a stop-light. He was obviously being especially careful driving so not to sling Kateri around. _Seat-belts + broken ribs = ouch_. Jess usually had a bit of a lead foot.

“Okay,” Kateri replied, mentally grimacing at the hideous paint color of a house that they were passing, “Is Tali home? Or is school still going?” _Long time since I had to think about school schedules for lower grades._

Jess chuckled, “Tali’s at school to her great annoyance. You’ll see her this afternoon. She was rather unhappy at breakfast that she couldn’t stay home to meet you.”

 _To meet me? Hasn’t been that many months since I had to pick up you and Clinton one morning_. Clinton had been out at the farm, but for some reason unknown to her, he hadn’t had his car with him, having gotten a ride with Jess there, probably. When Jess’ car wouldn’t start, well, _I ended up having to detour to go get them and then come back to HQ._

“Meet me?” Kateri asked puzzled, her brow furrowing as she glanced up at the rear-view mirror to get a glimpse of Jess’ face. “We’ve met before a few times.”

“Yes,” Jess agreed, “but not really for anything more than saying hi and how are you, as she put it."

“Well, she has a point.”

Kateri had driven out to Skye Farm only a couple of times, so few that she couldn’t rattle the address off if you put a gun to her head, and she always had to check her address book and use Google Maps to get there. All of her trips— _two, three times? Can’t remember for sure_ —had either been to pick somebody up or drop somebody off, and thus all of her meetings with Tali or Mr. and Mrs. Skye— _except for at Angelyne’s funeral_ —had been in very brief passing.

Kateri always enjoyed the drive out to Skye Farm, which was located in Glen Cove on on Long Island. There was grass and lots of trees of many kinds and flowers and shrubs, colors that, unlike in the city, did not belong to horrifically colored advertisements, trash, slime of dubious and probably nauseating origin, or yee old weird juice bar. _Yes, I know there’s Central Park and other place, but they’re basically the exception that proves the rule of how metropolized New York City is._ Sometimes Kateri just got tired of mostly seeing towering concrete, metal structures. _Not so bad in Belmont, I suppose, but still …_

The car turned onto one final street, and the trip was finally almost at an end **.** The houses along the street were medium-sized, quite far apart, and set well back from the street. _Hard to believe were not that far from the city. Some houses in some neighborhoods there are so close together you could almost change your neighbor’s TV for ‘em._ There were even more trees, most bare now that fall was upon them, _as chilly as it is, don’t think it’s technically winter for a little bit longer_ , and plants, lots and lots of plants, a far cry from the nearby concrete jungle. It both reminded Kateri of and made her somewhat nostalgic for the Reservation and the home of her early childhood that she could barely remember now save for a flash or two of memory and a handful of pictures. _I was only seven-ish, I think, when Ista and Rakeni moved us to New York._

The Skyes lived at the end of a long private drive, which itself was at the end of that one street, the name of which Kateri could never remember for the life of her. The house became visible first, and then set back down the hill a little way was the barn, its wood-paneled siding painted a classic red that contrasted nicely with the white doors with white trim.

Trees and flowers and other plants that Kateri could not identify were scattered across the green lawn, testament to someone’s hard-work gardening. From one of the large oaks near the front of the house hung a wooden board swing on a thick rope. _An old-fashioned swing, not the fancy plastic kind_. There were more plants along the front of the old-fashioned porch, and one shrub, at least from a distant, looked vaguely like an azalea bush. _Surprised I managed to drudge that up out of the depths of my brain. Guess I remember that from all Sophie, my college roomie and a gardening nut, used to talk about._

Jess pulled the car to a stop next to an old, well-used pickup truck that made Kateri slightly wistful for her own, much-loved truck, _bucket of bolts that it sometimes is_. _Need to ask if it’s still at HQ or if someone drove it back to my apartment._ It was going to be a while before Kateri could drive again, but she’d need to know its location … eventually.

Getting out of the car was, thankfully, less painful than getting into the car, _since less bending_ , and a little experience … _with less pain as a motivator_ … also helped. Jess had opened the door for her, and he was close in case she needed a hand, just not so close that it looked like he was hovering. Even Clinton wasn’t hovering, which made Kateri feel better. _Watching closely, I don’t mind._

An older woman emerged onto the raised porch while Kateri was climbing from the car and Clinton was grabbing her bags from the trunk. Mrs. Skye was an older woman with dark, graying hair pulled back in a bun, wearing a heavy, blue sweater and a long skirt. She was also one of the few people in Kateri’s small circle of friends/acquaintances who was actually shorter than Kateri herself. _Hana being the only other one, though only by a few inches_. Kateri was used to being one of the short ones, since _Clinton, Kenny, and Jess are all giants. Even Barnes’ taller than me!_ Mr. Skye was approaching from the direction of the barn. He was the same height as his son and looked (and dressed) like a man who made his living working with his hands.

Kateri with Jess beside her was the last to reach the porch. Clinton had already reached the porch and set Kateri’s bags down before leaning down to greet his mother. Introductions— _reintroductions? Haven’t met in a while_ —were made, and Kateri was touched by the warm greeting that, at the same time, was not replete with effusive thanks for what she had done, which Kateri would have found incredibly embarrassing.

When introductions were finished, Mrs. Skye shepherded— _gently and politely herded_ —everyone inside, “Come in out of the cold.”

The front door opened onto a large living room at one end of which was a long hallway that seemed to stretch the length of the house. There was a large fireplace on the far wall and a bookcase next to it. A tan sofa, its back covered with a large throw blanket, took up a considerable amount of floor space, and there were various flower pots and leafy plants of indeterminate species scattered across various flat spaces. _Very nice to look at, but glad I don’t have to keep them alive_. A green-thumb, Kateri did not have and had managed to kill more than one cactus before. _The one I have home might live longer with me not home_.

“Let me have your coat, kid,” Clinton said once the front door was shut and locked and he had set down Kateri’s bags out of the walking path. _No tripping over your own bags_.

 _Oh, there’s a coat rack on the wall behind the door_. The zipper on her parka was easy for Kateri to manage herself, and Clinton helped her ease it off to shoulders to minimize any contortions she would need to make.

“Thanks,” Kateri murmured, shooting her partner a grateful smile.

“Let me show you to your room, dear,” Mrs. Skye said once all coats had been shed, “Clint, can you carry her bags down?” She glanced at her son for a moment before her attention returned to Kateri, “Lunch will be ready very shortly, and I can help you unpack after that.”

 _Don’t have anything nobody else should be seeing, and can’t exactly do it myself_. “Thanks,” Kateri replied, stepping backwards carefully to give her partner room to get her bags and carry them … _wherever the guest room is_ , “I’d appreciate it. Doing … most anything normal is rather frowned on right now.” She gave a wry smile.

Leaving the other two men in the living room, Mrs. Skye guided Kateri through the other doorway out of the living room, not the doorway with the stairs that led up into the dining room, and down the long hallway. (The wood flooring from the front room continued. The walls were a pleasant shade of beige or tannish. _Painting companies probably have a fancy dancy ridiculous name for that shade of whatever_. A few pictures or paintings of animals and outdoorsy scenes hung on the walls.) The first thing that the two women passed was a narrow, steep staircase that led up to the second floor. Next to it was a closet, also on the right side of the hall.

“This is our bedroom,” Mrs. Skye said, gesturing towards a door on the left side of the hallway not far past the closet, “And those next two doors on the other side are for the guest room, your room, and the attached bathroom. It has two doors: one from your room and one from the hall.”

Clinton appeared from the first doorway as she finished speaking. “Your bags are on the end of the bed, Kateri.”

“Thanks.”

The guest room in the Skye’s house was small and longer than it was wide. The amount of furniture made it feel somewhat crowded— _not that I care_ —but it had a very homey feel. A desk and chair stood next to the door, some sort of flowering plant on the desk. _I hope I won’t be responsible for keeping that thing alive_. Straight in front of the door from the hallway and on the other side of the doorway that led to the bathroom was a chest of drawers and a rocking chair. In the corner by the window was the bed with a small bedside table next to it and with a small chest at the foot of the bed.

“I brought down extra pillows from the linen closest to help you sleep more upright. There are extra blankets in the chest that one of us can get for you if you get cold,” said Mrs. Skye after Kateri had taken her initial look around.

“Thanks,” Kateri replied, “I really appreciate your generosity. This looks really nice.” _Very nice. Especially nice after my hospital room. Anything homey’s better than a hospital room_.

“The bathroom door slides, not opens, so you won’t have to worry about colliding doors,”— _convenient_ —“There are fresh towels in the bathroom, and though there are two doors, no one else will be using it besides you.”

“Sounds good, thanks,” Kateri said with a smile.

Mrs. Skye departed at that point to go finish up lunch, and after freshening up quickly in the bathroom, Kateri slowly headed back up the hallway toward the living room and kitchen. _Don’t want anyone to have to wait on me_. As she approached the front rooms, she heard her partner … commenting on or complaining about… her hospital breakfast to his mother.

“You should have seen it! Angie," _—God rest her soul_ —"could cook better than that!"

Lunch was the best chicken soup— _maybe stew. Pretty thick for soup. Still delicious—_ Kateri thought she had ever tasted in her life. That breakfast had been awful also helped things, and there was even fresh, homemade bread to go with it. _Homemade anything is always better_. Tiredness and pain dimmed her appetite— _I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired_ —but the food was still enjoyable, and the company was distracting. Only a handful of questions were directed toward Kateri herself, for which she was grateful, although she wanted to be a good guest. Clinton answered a couple of them for her. _Mind meld has its uses_.

As Mrs. Skye and Clinton started clearing away the lunch dishes, Kateri started to wonder how quickly she could make excuses and retire to take a nap. _As soon as you won’t risk making yourself feel ill by sleeping too soon after eating_.

Suddenly, Jess rose from his seat with an exclamation of annoyance. He disappeared from the dining room out into the hall, and Kateri could hear him rummaging around at the coat-rack, or so it sounded. Within a minute he returned and extended a large card size envelope to Kateri.

Kateri looked up at his sudden movements, drawing her attention away from the depths of her tea mug with an effort. _What the h**l? I’ve already been inundated with cards between Tali, my handful of non-work friends, and HQ. Now what?_ She was running out of steam, and her thoughts felt slow. After a moment, she realized with a hint of embarrassment that she had just been starring at the envelope for too long, not moving to take it when Clinton, who had returned— _pay more attention!_ —reached out, took the envelope and then handed it to her, after slitting it open.

“Boston sent it down for you with apologies for being late. They didn’t hear the news for a while,” Jess explained, retaking his seat.

“Wasn’t exactly looking to make the intra-field office newspaper,” Kateri replied dryly.

_It has already been almost a month since that mission._

_Bloody h**l. Time flies. Did spend almost half the time in the hospital._

_Hope Nate and the others are recovering._

It had been the beginning of November when the team had ended up in the Boston area on the hunt for Scott Weitzen, an army sniper and mass murderer who had been sent over the edge by his PTSS, drug problems, and the suicide of a close friend. The sniper had gotten the drop on the team multiple times, but it had only been on the final day of the hunt during a raid on his suspected location that things had really, really gone bad. Kateri had been forced to put her hard-earned medic skills to use in the aftermath of the raid to help save the life of a badly injured SWAT officer. _Still one of the bravest things I’ve ever seen, what Nate did._

The envelope was large and fat. It had been well-stuffed with a large card inside which had also been stuffed a folded sheet of paper. The card was kinda corny and was covered with signatures and short get-well notes from various members of the Boston Field Office, only a few names from which Kateri recognized. The folded sheet of paper contained longer notes from the same SWAT team that had backed up the team on the Weitzen mission. These names were more familiar, and there was even a long note from Nate, the SWAT team member whose life she had saved.

A half-smile, almost a little wistful, curled up one corner of Kateri’s mouth, and she carefully refolded the paper and replaced paper and card in the envelope. “Thanks, boss.”

* * *

Kateri awoke from her post-lunch/afternoon siesta about 3pm. As much as it annoyed her to need to sleep so much, she did feel better. Just being in a home again … _as wonderful as it is. Hospitals are stress inducing …_ and not in a hospital, there was a lot more activity required just to get from one place to another, and her strength was still returning. _Give it time. This won’t last forever_.

Kateri threw back the covers, glancing at the clock on the bedside table, as she slowly and carefully pushed herself into a fully seated position. Sleeping flat was basically an exercise in masochism, and Mrs. Skye had piled the bed high with pillows for Kateri to use. _Time to take some more meds, and that’ll take the edge off. Mornin’ meds wearing off_. The doctors at the hospital had given her a prescription for a small quantity of the good stuff, but Kateri preferred to just avoid the heavy duty drugs like the plague now that she was out of the hospital. _Don’t want to risk getting addicted. Tylenol and IB’ll do enough. Seen too many people fall down the rabbit-hole with the other_.

In the bathroom, Kateri took her medicine and ran a comb through her hair. _No bedhead_. She wished that the injuries had been to her other side. It was almost automatic now to keep her left arm almost braced/wrapped around her side and abdomen, protecting the more vulnerable areas. _But I’m also left-handed, which means I’m doing a lot of things more awkwardly_. There were some things that she could do easily with her right hand, other things not so well. _Writing with my other hand looks like a four-year old’s._

Only Clinton and his father were in the living room as Kateri emerged from the hallway that almost bisected the house, and apparently hearing her footsteps, Mrs. Skye appeared at the top of the steps that led to the dining room a moment later.

“Hello, dear. Did you have a nice nap?”

Having someone actually call her by an endearment like that— _I don’t count Clinton calling me ‘kid’ in the same category_ —was kinda weird but kinda nice.

“Yes, ma’am, thank you,” Kateri replied, pausing just inside the living room door.

“I’m making tea for the others. Would you like some?”

 _Always wondered why the boss drinks so much tea. Maybe this is why_.

“Sure. Thanks.”

“Is there any kind you prefer? I have several.”

“Anything’s fine. I don’t have a preference.” _I’ll drink anything. Even Lipton’s. Coffee, I’m a little more picky about_.

Mrs. Skye disappeared back towards the kitchen, and Kateri circled around the couch, carefully bypassing the plants between the couch and the wall, to sit down next to her partner. Clinton and Mr. Skye were engaged in what had the looks of either a recently-begun or long-running chess match, considering how slowly each of them were making moves and how few pieces were not on the board. Though her partner sent her a friendly smile as she settled down and pulled one of the small sofa pillows around to cushion her ribs, it was obvious that the majority of his attention was on the chess game. _Go me, I’m better enough that you’re first instinct is not fussin’ over or mother-hennin’_ _me._

A glance at the chess board revealed nothing to Kateri. _I’ve got no idea if Clinton’s winning or not_. _Easier to tell if one of ‘em had much fewer pieces._ The rules of the game were lost on Kateri, and she wasn’t inclined to ask. _Don’t have a clue how to play chess. I know losing your king is bad, but that’s about it._ Checkers she could play quite well. One or two other strategy games she could play reasonably well, but not chess.

 _It’s still interesting to watch others play chess, though_. Kateri liked to people watch, and it was interesting to study the play of emotions/thoughts across Mr. Skye’s face and across Clinton’s as the two deliberated their next moves.

Mrs. Skye appeared a few minutes later with tea for all, and Kateri took the proffered mug, “Thanks,” and wrapped her palms around the mug, letting the heat soak deep into her hands. She was warm enough wrapped up in her back-up, slightly more worn grey fleece jacket, but her hands were still a little cold for some reason.

 _I should have grabbed my book off the desk. Oh, well, not going to move to get it for now_.

The chess game continued on, and not understanding what was going on, Kateri slowly began to lose interest. _Wonder where Jess is_. Her eyes started to drift around the living room and over towards the dining room, studying what she had missed during the quick tour and over lunch earlier. There was a picture on the fireplace mantelpiece behind Mr. Skye of Jess with Tali and Angelyne … _God rest her soul_ … _before their little world got turned upside down._ On the other side of the mantel was the folded flag that Jess received at her funeral. _All gave some. Some gave all_.

Kateri’s eyes flicked back to the chess game as she took a sip of her green tea slightly sweetened with what tasted like honey. _Not too much honey, though. Not like Jess’ which is so sweet I cringe just looking at it_. _… Cringe and feel my teeth rotting._ She still had no clue who was winning the chess match despite the somewhat snarky comments being traded back and forth between father and son. Her eyes drifted away again. Angelyne’s medals were displayed in a case on the bookshelves next to the fireplace along with more family photos and various knick-knacks/trinkets. _Like my bookshelves, half-books and half-stuff_.

“You’re welcome to read anything that catches your eye,” Mr. Skye spoke.

Kateri flinched slightly in surprise at the sudden comment directed to her, as his voice broke through her thoughts and musings. _Bloody h**l. … Now Clinton’s looking at me in concern, too. Bloody h**l._ “Thanks.”

_Another thing not to do here. Don’t swear in English … audibly. Not sure what Jess’d think of me swearing in front of his kid._

_Don’t swear in Mohawk either. Clinton and I aren’t the only ones who’ll understand anymore._

_Not like I’m short of swear words in French, even if I totally refuse to sound like I’m actually from Quebec._ Quebecois profanity tended towards the especially profane, words that Kateri, who was a devout Catholic, refused to use. _I swear, probably more than I should, but some things won’t ever come out of my mouth._

Not long afterwards there was the sound of voices from outside and then footsteps on the porch. Considering the time, Kateri guessed it was Tali back from school, which _also explains Jess’ absence. He went off to meet her at the bus stop or pick her up_. That guess was proved correct a moment later when the front door opened, and Jess appeared, Tali a step ahead of him, her small frame half-enveloped by a large, fluffy, blue parka. From the sound of it, she was chattering to her father about something from school that day, but the flow of words abruptly stopped as she and Kateri locked eyes.

“You’re here!” Tali exclaimed. _Jess not get a word in edgewise to tell you that already?_

“Kat,” Jess began introductions— _reintroductions?_ —since it had been a while since the two had last met, “my daughter, Tali. Tali, your uncle’s partner Miss Wood.”

_I understand what Jess is trying to do: instill respect for their elders in the new generation, but still … are you trying to make me feel old before my time?_

_Note to self: talk to the boss later and see if Miss + First Name will work for him_.

“Hello, Tali.” Kateri smiled a greeting, “It’s good to see you again.”

“Hi,” Tali gave a little wave as she shed her coat and hung it up on the rack behind the front door. Her instinctive burst of excitement seemed to have turned into temporary shyness. _Seen it plenty of times with my foster siblings back in the day_.

Not wanting to put any pressure on her, Kateri gave her another smile and then looked away back to the chess game. Greetings and hugs were exchanged between Tali and her uncle and grandparents, and then Tali disappeared upstairs to drop off her bag.

“How are you feeling?” Jess asked, coming over to examine the ongoing chess match with interest.

“Now that I’m fully awake and my meds are kicking in, better,” Kateri replied. _Always feel a little groggy when waking up from a nap in the middle of a dream_. She briefly considered raising the matter of how Tali’d address her but quickly rejected it for the moment, not knowing how soon Tali would return. _Some conversations, ‘specially about kinda parenting decisions, shouldn’t be had in kids’ hearing._

* * *

The chess match ended with a draw between Mr. Skye and Clinton after another half-an-hour, and the rest of the afternoon passed quietly. Except for a trip to get her book and use the bathroom, Kateri did not budge from her place on the couch for the rest of the afternoon until supper time. She didn’t feel like reading much despite the interest _Lord of the Rings_ usually spawned in her. Her ribs were aching from breathing and from just all the extra moving about. _Everything isn’t in as close proximity outside of a hospital room._ The pain was making her tense, which was giving her a headache, and the heavy dose of non-opioid pain meds she had taken after waking from her nap was only taking the edge off things. _Still better than nothing, and still better than taking opioids. Not becoming yet another statistic for addiction among Indigenous peoples **.**_ With the pain as a distraction, Kateri didn’t have the attention span to read much. The book lay open on her lap, and she’d occasionally flip a page, but more than not, she found herself reading the same paragraph or line over and over again, so she fell back on what was probably her second favorite past time: unobtrusive people watching.

From her seat on the couch Kateri could see the stairs that led to the second floor, one end of the dining room, and even a wee tiny sliver of the kitchen. Considering that the back of the house (on the first floor) was mainly just bedrooms, most activities went on in the front of the house, and Kateri had a prime seat to see what was going on and to people-watch.

_People-watching’s a good way of learning about people, see what they’re like when they don’t realize they’re being watched._

_Clinton knows what I’m doing. He’s seen me doing it before. He’ll know I’m not really reading. The others probably won’t realize … except for Jess … maybe._

_If there’s something private, I can develop selective hearing or even selective blindness, quite good at that by now, but if they’re willing to do it in front of me, even though I’m a bit of an unknown quantity, I don’t see the harm in watching._

The afternoon was basically a slice of life, and it was interesting, familiar, different, and a little sad, too, all at the same time. Jess was doing paper work related to something, griped a lot about having to do paper work— _do any cops or feds like paperwork?—_ and, after surviving the dreaded paperwork, played a game of chess with Mr. Skye and lost a whole lot more quickly than Clinton and Mr. Skye had dragged their game out to a draw. Tali bounced around between rooms and floors, apparently going back and forth between working on homework— _trying to work on homework?_ —and seeing what the others were doing. Her initial burst of shyness faded as the afternoon went on, and Kateri found herself the recipient of a number of interested questions. Clinton pulled a book of his own off one of the living room shelves and kept Kateri company most of the afternoon, which she appreciated. When he wasn’t playing chess with his son or his son-in-law, Mr. Skye was largely absent. Mrs. Skye spent a while at the dining room table with a basket full of mending before she had to go start supper. _I can sew on a button, but unless I’m sewing up someone, God forbid the necessity, I only touch a needle and thread if nobody else’ll see the results. I can do the very basics decently, but it ain’t pretty._

Dinner was a quiet affair. There was more of Mrs. Skye’s good cooking that tasted worlds better than the stuff the hospital had fed her. _What is it about hospital food always being bad? Is it like doctors and terrible handwriting? Is there like a law or something?_ Kateri was thankful though that she wasn’t expected to keep up a conversation. A few questions were addressed to her, but she was mainly left to eat in peace.

Clinton sent her a questioning, concerned look half-way through dinner. “You okay?” The look asked. From her seat next to him and beside Mrs. Skye at the foot of the table, Kateri half-smiled and nodded, giving a tired blink for a split second and visibly shifted her left arm closer to her body for a split second. “I’m okay,” her actions replied, “Just tired and hurting a little.”

* * *

There was a soft knock on Kateri’s bedroom door about 8:45pm. Worn out from the day’s tasks, Kateri had pleaded tiredness and retired to her room to rest and read before bed about an hour earlier after a pleasant dinner and some time with her hosts. She had made it through a couple more chapters of _The Two Towers_ , even though in her tiredness she still found herself reading the same paragraph over and over several times.

_Wonder who that is?_

Kateri marked the place in her book and set it aside as she called, “Come in.”

The door opened, and to her surprise it was Tali that appeared, her face a little hesitant.

“Hi,” Kateri smiled, “Come in. Did you come for Albert?” Mrs. Skye had helped her unpack after lunch before she’d lain down for a nap, and the bear now sat on the desk, leaning against the wall next to her laptop. “Thank you for loaning him to me. He was very good company while I was in the hospital.”

Tali came all the way in and gently closed the door behind herself. “No,” the girl shook her head, stuffing her hands into her pockets and scuffing the toe of one slipper on the floor. She seemed uncharacteristically shy and hesitant after her talkativeness later in the afternoon and over dinner. “You’re not healed yet, so you keep him for now.”

 _You okay, kiddo? You’re acting a bit weird_.

“What can I do for you?” Kateri asked, masking the puzzlement that wanted to slip into her face and tone. Careful to not jolt her ribs or abdomen, she drew up her legs a little so there was room for the girl to sit at the end of the bed. “Do you want to sit.”

Again, Tali shook her head. “If I’m real, real, real gentle,” she finally asked, voice soft and almost a little unsure, “Can I hug you?”

_Oh, now I get it._

_…_

_I think_.

Kateri’s face softened, a small smile curling up the corners of her mouth, “Of course. Only on the right, though.” She opened one arm. _Convenient my left side’s toward the wall anyway_.

Quick steps took Tali to the edge of the bed, but true to her word, her every move was slow and infinitely cautious as she knelt on the edge of the bed and wrapped her arms around Kateri’s neck. “Thank you for saving Uncle Clinton.” Her voice was even softer now and a little shaky like she was on the edge of tears.

 _Oh, honey_.

Protective older-sister instincts from foster care reared to life in an instant, and Kateri wrapped one arm around Tali’s back and gently rubbed one hand up and now. “You’re welcome. He means a lot to me, too.” _More than I’d put into words outside my own head_. “He watches my back, and it was my turn to watch his.”

Tali pulled away after a minute, her eyes suspiciously wet. “Dad said you almost died because of what you did.”

_I know she’s mature for her age, but boss, what exactly have you been telling her?_

Kateri paused for a second, mulling over how to respond, “It was a bit of a close call,”— _well, more than bit, but … kiddo. Not telling her some things_ —but I had good doctors, and I pulled through. Some people say I have nine lives.”

“Like a cat?”

 _I think Billy and Kenny have both said it independently at different times after different events_.

_Which Kenny might find slightly horrifying … actually agreeing with Billy on something._

“Mm-hmm.”

The sound of Tali’s name being called from elsewhere in the house put a kibosh on further conversation. Kateri felt a mixture of relief and disappointment. She liked Tali but was glad that a potentially awkward conversation was stopped. She didn’t know what exactly Jess had told the girl about her injuries and hospital stay, what exactly Jess would or wouldn’t want her told, and how exactly Jess dealt with potentially loaded topics like this one. _Parenting is complicated._

“I’d better go,” Tali said, glancing back toward the door, “That’s probably Dad, and I’m not supposed to be bothering you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” Kateri quickly corrected, “I’m glad you came.”

Tali’s name was called again.

“I’d better go,” Tali repeated, giving her a beaming, but still slightly watery, smile, “Night, night. Sleep well.”

“Good night.”

In a whirl of limbs and long pig-tails, Tali departed, closing the door surprisingly quietly for the speed at which she was moving. _Kids! I need some of that energy._ Kateri starred at the door for a long minute after she departed, a fond smile on her face. _She’s a good kid. I hope that made her feel better_. After another minute, Kateri picked up her book and returned to the story. _Should go to bed soon, but a few more chapters first_.

A half-an-hour passed, and then another knock on the door sounded as Kateri was putting her book away and starting to move toward the somewhat laborious process of actually getting up. _Not Tali, again. Different knock. Not Clinton, since he went home after supper. Too light to be Jess—I recognize his knock anyway from a couple of times he’s gotten locked out of our hotel rooms during hunts—so I’m guessing Mrs. Skye_.

“Come in,” Kateri called.

The door opened, and as Kateri had guessed, Mrs. Skye entered, closing the bedroom door behind herself. A hand-made knitted shawl was wrapped around her shoulders, and she had let her long hair down from its bun. _They’re probably going to bed soon, too_. Clinton had warned her that his folks were the go-to-bed early and rise-with-the-dawn type, which didn’t bother Kateri at all, considering her habits were similar. _Well, they were before all this_.

“Do you need anything, dear? Nelson and I are going to bed soon.”

Kateri shook her head, relaxing back against the pillows propped up against the headboard. She’d get up after Mrs. Skye had left. _Another defense mechanism, you don’t want to look weak in front of others. These are Clinton’s parents, moron, not your low-life contacts. Get over yourself_. “No, thanks. I’m good. I’m going to bed pretty soon, too.”

Mrs. Skye smiled gently, “Our room is right across the hall if you need anything, and Jess’ room is upstairs.”

“Thanks. I think I’m good, though,” Kateri replied. She paused, brow furrowing for a second. _Oh, yeaaa. Timing for in the morning …_ “Uh, what time’s breakfast?”

“We usually eat before Tali leaves for school. Sleep in until you feel like getting up, though, and I’ll make you food then.” Was the reply. Kateri opened her mouth to protest— _I don’t want to make extra work for you!_ —but Mrs. Skye got a very motherly look on her face and continued without missing a beat, “The extra work to make you eggs or oatmeal later is negligible.”

 _Partner, how much did you tell your mother about me? Because that’s just freaky_.

Kateri let her jaw snap shut with an audible click, gave a slightly sheepish smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I’ll let you get some rest then unless there’s anything else you need.”

Kateri hesitated, one issue having been brought back to her mind by Tali’s visit to her bedroom: her nightmares and PTSS _and why the kiddo should never be allowed near me during a nightmare_. On thankfully rare occasions, both she and Kenny got a little violent coming out of their nightmares. It had been a while since that had happened to Kateri, but Kenny had almost hit her on the Scott Weitzen mission[3] and, once the previous year, had actually hit Jess in the face[4] after a mission that ended badly ( _perp dead and bystander dead. Makes for a really bad day._ ) The same night, _I almost hit Clinton, too. Convenient for him he’s just a lot bigger and lot stronger and was just able to catch my arms before I injured myself or him_.

“One thing…” Kateri hesitated for a moment and then plowed on. _Get it over with. It’s for Tali’s safety_. “I don’t know how much Jess or Clinton have told you about me, but I have PTSS, and I’m claustrophobic. Because of that … and the job, I can have bad nightmares sometimes, and … occasionally, I’ll … flail as I wake up. It would probably be safest if you don’t ever let Tali wake me up and you should be careful, too.”

Mrs. Skye smiled gently, almost a little sadly, “Thank you for telling me, dear. With Clinton and Jess … and with Angelyne once, we are cognizant, and we understand. We got a reminder of it last year after Jess came home with a broken nose and a split lip.”

_Kenny’s aim was true that night. Thankfully, it didn’t turn out worse. Hana’s quick reflexes to thank for that._

“Which wasn’t my fault, by the way,” Kateri added.

Mrs. Skye nodded and quickly added a word of reassurance, “And Tali knows to be careful.”

 _I’d have thought so, but … the last thing I want is to hurt her_.

Kateri gave a slight sigh of relief, “Good. The last thing I want to do would be to hurt her accidentally.” _Last thing in the world that I want._

The two spoke for another minute, and then Mrs. Skye departed. Slowly the house settled down for the night, though a few creaks could still be heard upstairs. _Another thing to learn: all the new creaks of a new place._ Knowing the creaks in a house/apartment could save your life. Kateri knew what it sounded like when someone was moving around in her apartment, and if Kenny or one of the others wasn’t there, she would know someone who didn’t belong was inside.

Kateri let her mind wander for a little while after she first settled down to sleep against her mountain of pillows a little while later and as she shifted around trying to find the most comfortable position to sleep with her broken ribs. Her bedtime slug of Tylenol was taking effect, and this bed was a lot more comfortable than the hospital one.

 _A whole lot_. _A whole bloody lot_.

_For the first day of crashing with your partner’s parents and your boss’ parents-in-law, I think today went well._

* * *

[1] Tolkien, _LOTR: TT_ , Chapter 7: Helm’s Deep.

[2] _Grey Hairs, Reason #23_.

[3] _Invisible_ , Chapter 3.

[4] _Bad Aim and a Broken Nose_.


	2. The First Case Without Her (Prophet)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI: there is a floorplan of the Skye's house, which I created, in the Guide for this series.

By the time several days had passed since she first came to Skye Farm, Kateri was adjusting well to her new temporary-existence as a house-guest of the Skyes. Starting the second week of December the team was back on primary rotation and could be called up for a mission at any point, but meanwhile Kateri appreciated having her partner and her boss around during the initial adjustment to her brave, new, temporary world. It had been a long time since she had been a part of a family unit or spent a lot of time around a kid on a daily basis, and Kateri did not want to put a foot wrong accidentally or say the wrong thing or say to much … _in front of Tali and scar her, and then Jess’d kill me_.

Her latter concern had been helped by a conversation the first Sunday Kateri had been at the house, two days after her arrival. Kateri had cornered Jess while Mrs. Skye was out at the store and Mr. Skye was outside with Tali, who was playing. As to what Tali was supposed to call her, Kateri was able to bargain Jess down to Miss Kateri or Miss Kat without a problem, _though I think he was laughing internally when I complained that being called Miss Wood made me feel old_. As to what topics needed to be avoided around Tali, _using common sense appears to be the name of the game. Good life advice, generally_. Jess preferred that Kateri avoid bringing up really heavy topics, but if Tali brought the conversation up, Kateri could answer honestly, if circumspectly, _but I should feel free to deflect if I felt the questions were too personal_.

During the adjustment period, Kateri had had to remind herself from time to time that despite the fact that she appreciated her partner’s presence both as a help and as a buffer, she had to adjust … _it’s a setting you haven’t been in a while, but trying to play a part like on a mission is a terrible idea. You have to adjust …_ and not just let him doing all the talking while she did the watching like on some missions. By the time several days had passed, however, _I no longer feel the need to drop sir/ma’am every other sentence_.

Starting the second week of December the team was back on primary rotation, and the longer than usual gap between missions for the New York teams … _Jess said the backup team hasn’t been called up in a bit_ … was unusual. Such a gap usually indicated the calm before the storm. _Sooner or later there’ll be another lowlife who needs catching_.

Tuesday, December 10—the third day on primary rotation for the team—dawned bright and early. Kateri’s strength was slowly but surely increasing since her release from the hospital— _though naps are still a must. Makes me feel like a kiddo again—_ and her get-up times were slowly approaching a more normal (for her) schedule, which meant that she also got to join Jess, Tali, and Mr. and Mrs. Skye for breakfast before Tali left for school. _Appreciate Mrs. Skye’s kindness in making me breakfast later for a few days, but glad she won’t need to anymore … hopefully_.

On that Tuesday, Kateri had been a little later rising that morning and was only half-way through her bowl of oatmeal by the time the others had finished eating. Mrs. Skye had disappeared back to the kitchen just off the dining room to start washing up. Jess had gone back upstairs to do … something. Mr. Skye was perusing the morning paper while finishing his tea, and Tali, who was sitting on Kateri’s other side, was deep in the depths of an electronics textbook. _Interesting hobby for an 11-year old girl. Not that it’s a problem._

“Mr. Riley’s putting the antenna on the roof of the school today,” Tali announced, face shining with utter excitement, as Jess returned to the dining room some minutes after he left, “We have a super-powerful transceiver that reaches all the way to Australia.”

 _Wowweeee. That’s a long way_.

 _I think I got too much honey in this oatmeal. Not too too much, but still a little much. Ah, well_.

_Still not as much honey as Jess put in his tea._

_Wonder why he does that..._

“Wow, that sounds very cool,” Jess replied, retaking his seat across from Tali. “Look what I found last night,” he added, displaying what he must have gone back upstairs to get. “It’s your Mom’s old compass.” _God rest her soul_.

Kateri looked up out of vague curiosity long enough to see what he had brought: a small, hand-held, fold-open compass. At the mention of Angelyne, however, she got the sense that this might turn into a private conversation, and Kateri turned her attention to studiously studying the depths of her oatmeal. _Selective hearing or not, I can’t fully tune them out at this distance with only my breakfast to distract me, but I can, at least, give the allusion of privacy_. Sometimes that was the best you could do.

“I signed us up for an orienteering competition,” Jess finished, an almost-hopeful note in his voice. _Which is what, by the way?_

Though Kateri didn’t see her face, Tali’s voice as she replied made her sound less than enthusiastic about that idea, “That’s something I did with Mom.” She gathered her books and her bowl and rose to her feet.

 _Oh, to be anywhere but here_.

“And you were a pretty good team. I thought we might be a pretty good team, too,” Jess responded, the same almost-hopeful tone to his voice. _Parenting is complicated_.

“Well, I’ve gotta get ready for school,” was Tali’s simple response— _complete and utter shoot down_ —of that idea. _Poor Jess. That did NOT go how you hoped_.

There was a short period of awkward silence that made Kateri internally cringe and attempt even more studiously to study the less-than intriguing depths of her mostly empty oatmeal bowl.

Finally, Jess gave a deep sigh and leaned back in his chair. “I messed up, didn’t I?” The question seemed to be directed toward his father-in-law, not to the room at large.

_Oh, bloody h**l. Parenting discussions and critiquing!_

_Ground, please swallow me up_.

Mr. Skye looked up from his perusal of the newspaper. “Mmmm, not yet,” his voice was as dry as the desert, “Ask Clint about Happy.” With that obscure comment, he took a sip of his tea, his gaze going back to the paper.

 _Is Happy a who or a what? Or something else entirely?_ Kateri found a thread of curiosity blooming, despite the awkwardness of the situation in which she had found herself. She glanced up for a moment, looking back and forth between Mr. Skye and Jess, and then back down at her oatmeal.

“Who’s Happy?” Asked Jess puzzled. _Ah, the reference is even lost on him_. _Interesting._

“Dog Angelyne had when she was a kid,” Mr. Skye replied. _What does a dog have to do with this situation?_

Before more could be said, Jess’ phone began to buzz, a text buzz, not a call buzz. He pulled it from his pocket, tapped a few buttons, read whatever was on his screen, and then his face went dark. _We … they’ve got a case_. And that was more than a little galling to say. _This is going to be so weird_. Jess tapped a few more buttons and typed something quickly, _probably sending out the bat signal to the others_ , and then departed back upstairs— _creaky stairs_ —to gather his things.

“Did you discover the secret to the universe in your oatmeal bowl?” Mr. Skye asked, his voice as dry as desert sand.

Kateri blinked, for a moment dumbfounded by the question, and then a grin slowly spread across her face. _Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh._ (Laughing hurt like h**l.) “Nah,” she replied, “Just my best attempt at selective hearing when there wasn’t anything else besides breakfast to focus on.”

 _Well, I now know where you got your dry wit and one liners from, Clinton_.

“Selective hearing?” Asked Mrs. Skye, who had just appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, drying her hands on a dish towel.

“Have you two seen our bus before?” _Easier to explain this if you have._

“Pictures,” Mr. Skye answered, taking a sip of his tea, “It looks like a supped-up motor home.”

 _Yeaaaa, basically_. _Might have been originally, don’t know._

“And not that much bigger either!” Kateri made a face, “While we’re out on a case, if we aren’t in the field, driving, or occasionally in a hotel, we basically spend the entire time in a tricked-out shoebox.” _That’s your claustrophobia talking. It’s not quite that small_. “It’s almost impossible to have a private conversation inside the bus, but if someone needs to, the rest of us … well, we try to give them some semblance of privacy, at least. Selective hearing is how we usually put it.”

“Clinton said once you two have a different solution?” Mrs. Skye asked, a note of what sounded like curiosity in her voice. Kateri was good at dissecting voices but didn’t know the Skyes well enough to tell for sure.

 _I would have thought he’d explained that point, but maybe he has and you’re making conversation. Who cares_?

Kateri nodded, a half-grin curling up one corner of her mouth, “I’m Kahnawake, also. If Clinton and I need to talk privately, we’ll usually just talk in Mohawk. That won’t work here, though.” She grinned again and made a face for effect, “Shoulda taught him a little more French.”

 _The only French that he knows from me is a handful of swear words, basic pleasantries, and the substitutes for a few words or phrases that come up in conversations semi-regularly and, as far as we know, aren’t in any dictionary of Mohawk that we’ve ever heard of_.

There was a pause in the conversation at that point to say farewell to Tali, who was off to school, and a few minutes later Jess, who was off to work. It was hard for Kateri to see him depart and know she wasn’t going with him. The team had basically been her life for the last five years, and not being with them on a case … just felt … wrong.

“What are your plans for today?” Mr. Skye asked once both Tali and Jess had departed and the house had grown quiet again.

Kateri shrugged. _Hadn’t gotten past breakfast yet_. “Not sure. Kinda takin’ it a day at a time. Not used to being basically house bound. Not allowed to go running. Don’t have the energy to, either, or to do most of the things I usually do off-duty.”

“You’re welcome to the TV or any of our books if you want,” called Mrs. Skye from the kitchen.

“Thanks. I brought a couple of my books, but I might watch TV if I get too bored. Not used to this much sitting around since the last time I had the flu.”

* * *

As many children know from long years of experience, especially during summer vacations, saying “I’m bored” in the hearing of your parents can have unexpected consequences, usually involving chores of some kind. At Kateri’s statement that she wasn’t sure what she was going to do that day, Mr. Skye got an interested look in his eyes that intensified at her “if I get too bored.” When he asked whether she knew her way around a screwdriver, a paint brush, and a few other tools and she answered affirmatively, that interested look got even brighter. _He’s planning … plotting? … something_.

Apparently, Mr. Skye had a possible solution for Kateri’s boredom, and despite the fact that it was quite clear that she could say no to whatever this idea was, Kateri was too bored but mainly too curious to say no. Kateri finished her breakfast in leisurely fashion, as Mr. Skye finished reading the newspaper, and then as their tea was transferred to travel mugs and topped off, Kateri was sent off for shoes. Once she returned, Mr. Skye helped her get her coat on without sending herself into paroxysms of pain and then shepherded her toward the backdoor.

The barn that really looked like a classic old red barn that you read about or saw in old TV shows was a good stone’s throw away from the back of the house. It was not, however, used as a barn any longer. _Where are these chickens I’ve heard about then_? The main level, Kateri discovered as Mr. Skye held the side door open for her to precede him inside, had been converted into what looked like a giant work room. _Like the giant hobby/craft room one of my better sets of foster parents had in the basement._ Tables half-covered in stuff were scattered across the massive floor. Along the exterior walls there were shelves lined with tools, tool boxes, paint, and other stuff. On the tables and on the floor out of the way were birdhouses, boxes, mirror frames, tables, chairs, and various other things of indeterminate use in various stages of completion.

_Carpentry!_

“Wow!” Kateri glanced around the massive room, taking in everything with a flick of her eyes. “Very impressive!”

People who could do such things with their hands always impressed her, especially because hand-crafts weren’t something Kateri was especially good at. She’d tried teaching herself carving one summer some years before, but her attempts … _didn’t matter what I was trying to make …_ had all come out looking like a cross between evolutionary missing links and the monsters in some Japanese movies. _Knitting I can manage, however, as long as I’m making things with only straight lines_.

“Did you all make all of this this?” Kateri asked, waving one hand to encompass all the stuff in the room.

Mr. Skye shook his head, pointing her toward a seat at once of the tables. “Some of it we’ve made. Some of it we’re fixing.” _Interesting. I’ll have to remember that for the future_.

Kateri was ensconced in a chair at one of the tables, and she spent a pleasant morning helping Mr. Skye by holding some things, screwing other things, helping paint a few things all under his watchful eye … _until it became clear I actually knew what I was doing, not just said I knew what I was doing. There is a difference_. It somewhat amazed her all that she could actually help by doing even with all the restrictions she was under, and helping and just doing and seeing something new and different was a pleasant distraction _from thinking about how much my ribs hurt … every bloody time I breathe!_ It was also a distraction from her boredom from basically being house bound and restricted from all her usual ways of passing time.

Mrs. Skye got in on the give-Kateri-something-to-do program, too. Someone had told her that Kateri liked to cook or, at least, was a good cook, and that same afternoon after a nap, Kateri was invited in to help with dinner preparations, an invitation that repeated over the coming days. Even Tali got in on the program after she returned from school, ‘talking’ Kateri into helping her set the table. _Carrying plates was deemed off-limits and too heavy, but a glass or two or a handful of silverware, that I am allowed to do_. Homework questions were also asked. _Been a long time since I had to deal with those types of questions._

In the evenings after supper, Tali became a frequent presence in Kateri’s room. The two would sit together on her bed and talk about a wide variety of topics, although Kateri was careful to avoid the topics _that I could see Jess killing me for if they got brought up without him, at least, present_. Some of the topics were light: animals, stuffed animals, school, hobbies, music, TV/movies, etc. Sometimes the topics veered toward the more complicated, and those Kateri kept a tighter … _or VERY tight …_ rein on, conscious of her previous discussion with Jess: Angelyne ( _once surprisingly_ ), a situation similar to Kateri’s own and one she could sympathize with and offer some counsel on; the complexities of attending public school and interacting with children ( _being from a minority just adds to the complexity of being a kid in public school_ ); the dangers of the job for Jess, Clinton, and Kateri ( _and that’s one I’d definitely prefer not to touch with a ten-foot pole_ ); and the like.

Some times over the course of that first case while Jess was absent, Tali came up with questions on unexpected but non-heavy topics that were still unexpectedly and surprisingly complicated to answer. _What is it about kids and complicated questions? And how do they come up with some of these questions?_

One night the question was, “Why does Uncle Clinton call you ‘Kateri’ but Dad calls you ‘Kat’?”

Kateri blinked, for a moment at a loss for words. _Uh … bloody h**l, it’s just how it’s always been … once we got past the last names stage in the beginning. Never really thought about it before_. “I really never thought about it. It’s how it’s always been since I joined the team back almost five years ago. Most people just call me Kat. It’s a common nickname for Catherine, which Kateri is just the Mohawk spelling of. So many people call me Kat, not Kateri, that my full name has almost become the more familiar, special way of addressing me. Other than that theory, I’ve got no idea.”

Another night one of Tali’s questions was, “Why does Uncle Clinton call you ‘kid’ sometimes?” _Where does she come up with these things? Oh, wait, I guess he has called me that here. I’m so used to it that I don’t think about it, but it might seem strange to the others_.

“You do know that your uncle is almost old enough to be my father?” Kateri asked, raising an eyebrow quizzically. The question reminded her of the topic that had been lurking at the edge of her thoughts for days ever since she had come to the Skye’s and even before that while she was still at the hospital. _Everything to gain, but everything to lose._ The same lurking fear in her heart that she could screw up her and her partner’s relationship kept her silent.

“Really?” Tali seemed surprised. _She has a very expressive face._

“I’m only 32. I’ll be 33 in February.” Kateri wasn’t that surprised at Tali’s surprise. Unless Kateri consciously tried to make herself look or act younger than she really was, a harder life and a hard job and a string of injuries usually made her seem and appear somewhat older than she really was. “As to your question, I’m really not totally sure why he does it. We’re close, your uncle and I, extremely close for partners. Out of most people, the appellation would seem like an insult, but not from him.” Kateri paused, a somewhat sheepish smile crossing her face, “He’s also a bit overprotective, since I’m not always the best at taking care of myself, and so sometimes … he fusses. Maybe that’s why, I don’t know. Never really thought about it.” _Not really an answer to the question, not a full one, at least, but the best she’s going to get_.

_Don’t even remember when Clinton first started calling me that._

* * *

One slightly convenient thing about being doped up on the good stuff … _unlike with sleeping pills …_ and being bone-deep exhausted back at the hospital was that Kateri’s nightmares had faded for a time. Not that she wasn’t dreaming, she was quite sure, she just slept like the dead, didn’t wake up in the middle of any dreams, and thus didn’t consciously remember dreaming. _I don’t have the nice dreams, but I don’t have the bad ones either._

As her strength returned and the nights of sleeping the sleep of the dead started to lessen in number, Kateri’s nightmares slowly started to return. Sometimes the dreams were her more common but still freaky nightmares: small spaces—the kind of nightmares that especially freaked out a claustrophobic person. Others were of the freaky but extremely weird variety, the how-did-my-brain-come-up-with-that variety … _like that nightmare I had about crocodiles … or was it snapping turtles? … in an office building_. Other times, the dreams were more particular to her job and her PTSS: scenes from missions but twisted by her subconscious to give them a devastating outcome. The worst nightmares, Kateri was quite sure, were the twisted versions of the warehouse that had nearly been her demise, versions where she had been too slow, too slow.

_The pain in her back almost seems to throb in time with her heartbeat._

_Kateri is slow getting back to her feet, glancing around for her gun._

_Clinton is still restraining the suspect, his back to the danger neither of them knows is there yet._

_When the second suspect comes out of nowhere, gun raised, Kateri is again too slow, too slow, too slow pushing herself into a run._

_The crack of a bullet echoes through the air._

_Clinton falls, blood pouring from a wound in his neck._

****

_Too slow, too slow, too slow_

_“No, no, no, no. Clinton, stay with me. Stay with me.”_

_“Medic. Agent down.”_

_Too slow, too slow, too slow_

_Not again, not again, not again._

_Slippery blood pouring through the fingers clamped tight to the side of his neck._

_Hands coated with coppery, sticky blood._

_The light slowly fades from his eyes, and his grip on her arm loosens._

_Too slow, too slow, too slow_

_You let your partner die._

_You let your father die._

****

How Kateri awoke without crying out that night mid-way through the week she never knew. She had slipped down her carefully-constructed mound of pillows that she used to keep herself propped up overnight, and her jolt awake made the abused and injured muscles in her chest wall, which had gone stiff and tight while she slept, cry out in utter agony.

 _Bloody, bloody, bloody h**l_. A fiery, stabbing pain raced up and down Kateri’s torso from the sudden jolt, and it was several long minutes before she could take a deep breath without wanting to cry further because of the pain. Slowly, Kateri pushed herself upright back into a near-seated position and readjusted her pillows to keep her propped up. _Bloody, bloody, bloody h**l_.

_I hate my brain some days._

Kateri glanced at her phone, then the clock. _It’s 4 o’clock in the bloody morning. No, you’re not texting him. Of course, he’s fine. It was a dream. Just a bloody horrific dream_.

 _I really hate my brain some days_.

The house was quiet around her. It was just the four of them scattered throughout the house: Mr. and Mrs. Skye across the hall and Tali upstairs. It was almost too quiet, and Kateri wasn’t used to the quiet anymore. Her apartment wasn’t quiet. _Bronx doesn’t sleep in a lot of ways_. The bus with all six of them packed in there asleep— _except when we get a motel room_ —wasn’t quiet. The quiet at the house hadn’t bothered her before, but now it did. She was used to the noise of her teammates snoring, shifting, moving about. The noises meant normalcy. The noises meant everyone was there and okay.

 _Bloody h**l, it’s too quiet here_.

_Deep breaths. Clinton’s fine. Just fine. The whole team got out of the warehouse alive … including you … by the skin of your teeth._

_Deep breaths. Now’s not the time for a panic attack. Don’t want to get pneumonia either._

_Yes, I know it bloody hurts. Deep breaths anyway._

_I miss Kenny’s snoring. He sounds like a freight train some nights, but I still miss it._

Kateri leaned her head back against the pillows. She had a feeling she wasn’t going to go back to sleep. _I appreciate the hospitality and kindness of the Skyes, but I miss life being normal, or as normal as it ever is for us_. The question at hand, then, was what to do for the next couple of hours before the house starting rising for a new day’s work. _If I go outside, I’ll wake the others. Probably too cold right now anyway_. It was a school day, so everyone would be up a little earlier to see Tali off to school, but _I’ve still got 2 or 3 hours to kill_.

Habitually, Kateri grabbed for her phones … again … and checked her email and messaging apps for any updates from work ( _that can’t be ignored until later, even though I’m on medical leave_ ) or from the team. Clinton and her other teammates were sending her periodic updates on the case, keeping her in the loop even while she was on medical leave. This case was a particularly horrific one, even beyond the usual level of horrificness. _You don’t get on the Most Wanted list for petty street stuff._

_What is it about cults and crazy?_

_Killin’ kids, it’s a new level of FUBAR. Just messed up_.

_Look at something else, or you’ll give yourself more nightmares._

_Be useful. Read something. Don’t just browse the web._

Two hours of reading ( _with more than a little mindlessly flipping pages_ ) proved the solution. When Kateri started to hear a little movement across the hall, she put her book aside and threw the covers back. Her muscles were still a little stiff from overnight and from her slip down the pillows so getting up was painful, but soon enough she was on her feet. _Time to start the day_. Getting dressed and making oneself presentable took an annoyingly long time with broken ribs. Everything that Kateri had done automatically now had to be thought through carefully before she did it so that she put the least pressure on her broken ribs and healing incisions and caused herself the least amount of pain. _Welcome to the new normal for the next month or more_.

Once she was dressed— _and my hair doesn’t look like a rat’s nest because of the funny positions I sleep in_ —Kateri grabbed her phone off the nightstand and sent Kenny a quick text, *I miss your snoring. It’s too quiet here. 😊 😉*

 _Time to face another day_.

Kenny must have been already awake because her phone buzzed with a reply within thirty seconds. The whole message was a string of laughing emojis.

Stuffing her sock-feet into her slippers … _not putting on real shoes unless I have to …_ Kateri stepped out into the hall. Tali was standing in the living room but bolted towards her as soon as the two saw each other.

“Miss Kat, I forgot to tell you last night …”

_Don’t have a Tali back in the Bronx._

_One good thing of many about being here …_

* * *

On the sixth day of the team’s current case (Monday the 16th), Kateri found herself alone in the Skye’s house for an hour or two. Mr. Skye was at a routine doctor’s appointment, and Mrs. Skye had found herself short of a critical component needed for dinner … _that’s happened to me a few times. Hate it when that happens …_ and had left for the store not long before Tali was due to be back from school.

The sound of the front door opening jolted Kateri from a half-doze. She had been sitting in bed reading, her copy of _The Two Towers_ lying open in her lap, but tiredness and a comfortable bed was lulling her towards a nap, even though she was sitting up. _Getting used to sleeping upright again. Hadn’t needed to since last time I had the flu and tried to cough up a lung multiple times a day._ Putting aside her book, Kateri glanced at the clock. It was almost 3:45pm. Mr. Skye wasn’t due back for a bit. Mrs. Skye hadn’t been gone long enough to be back yet, and … Tali was overdue. _Bloody h**l. Shoulda noticed earlier. D**n it all._

A voice sounded through the house a moment later. “Grandma?” It was Tali’s voice, but shaky-sounding. _Almost in tears! Bloody h**l_. Kateri threw back the blanket that had been covering her legs, calling back “Back here, Tali!” _Bloody h**l. What the h**l is going on?_ Her glance went instinctively to the bedside table drawer where her Glock was. _Don’t think it’s that kind of problem._

Urgency drove Kateri, and a sudden rush of adrenaline drove away the vestiges of tiredness that plagued her. 10 days since her hospital stay ended, 25 days since the mission ended … she was healing well. Getting up in a hurry still bloody hurt as Kateri swung her feet over the side of the bed, planted them on the floor and pushed herself up, a hand on the bedside table for support. The too-close to twisting motion and the handful of heavier, deep breaths sent a bolt of white-hot pain through her torso, and Kateri gasped. _Bloody h**l_. _That bloody hurts_. A couple of breaths. The worst faded. _Next meds can’t come too soon_.

Soft footsteps sounded in the hall, and Kateri, with an effort, drove any last vestiges of pain from her face. She was half-way to the bedroom door when Tali appeared.

“L'enfer sanglant!” Kateri swore, at the last second remembering to do so in French, not English. _What the h**l?_

Tali was dressed in deference to the temperature—upper 30s—in a fluffy, dark-blue parka. Her backpack was missing, probably dropped by the front door, but neither of those were not what had drawn Kateri’s attention and caused her alarm. The knees of the girl’s pants were ripped. Her palms were bloody, and there was a bloody scrape on her forehead and across the bridge of her nose.

 _What in all the bloody blue blazes happened? Did you fall? Someone push you?_ There was an instinctive rush of anger that went along with that last thought. Kateri had no patience for bullies, and she felt surprisingly protective of the girl. “What happened, Tali?” She asked, worry sharpening her tone.

The explanation came out all in a rush, one word tripping over the next in her haste, and Tali seemed more than ever almost in tears, “It was cold on the bus. It’s cold outside, so I decided to run home to warm up, but I tripped and fell. I caught myself, but then my backpack slid, so I bumped my head, and where’s Grandma?”

 _Well, that’s a relief_. _If it’s gotta happened, better natural causes than bullies._

_Plenty familiar with the latter._

Kateri forced herself to relax. Staying tense wasn’t necessary for the situation, wouldn’t help Tali and wasn’t going to help Kateri’s ribs hurt any less either. _Relax, nobody hurt her. She’ll be fine_. “Your grandmother went to the grocery store a little bit ago,” Kateri forced herself to make her voice softer, gentler, too, “Missing an ingredient for supper. You’re stuck with me for the moment, kid. Where’s your first-aid kit? I need to look at your head.”

“There’s one in the kitchen,” Tali replied. Her eyes were shiny with tears, and her hands moved towards her face before she seemed to remember that her hands were scraped and bloody and aborted the motion.

Kateri turned and grabbed her keys with its penlight on a chain from its position on the bedside table next to her phones. “Come on, kid,” she continued, squeezing Tali’s shoulder gently, “Let’s get you fixed up.”

Unfortunately, given Kateri’s restrictions—no bending, no lifting, no pushing, no pulling, _the list goes on_ —Tali was the one who had to pull out a chair and retrieve the first aid kit. The necessity of that did give Kateri an extra chance to study Tali’s movement. After any hit to the head, _you gotta keep an eye out for concussion symptoms, especially given they can manifest differently in kids,_ and clumsy movements, balance problems, and dizziness—none of which Tali was manifesting—were all signs of a concussion. _Good signs. … I hate treating people I know._

“Do you remember what happened when you fell?” Kateri asked, as she washed her hands quickly at the kitchen sink.

An affirmative nod. _Good_.

“Before you fell?”

Another nod. _Also good_.

“The rest of the trip home after you fell?”

A third nod. _Very good_.

That made the medic side of Kateri feel much better. _Progress_. She dried her hands and unhooked her pen-light from her key ring. “Look at me.” _Pupils equal and reactive_. “Follow my finger.” _Good_. “How many fingers am I holding up?” Kateri held up two fingers.

“Two,” Tali replied without hesitation.

Kateri switched to three, and Tali replied correctly without hesitation.

_Normal voice levels, and she’s not flinching at the sound of my voice._

_Not abnormally sensitive to light when I shined my penlight in her eyes_.

_Memory’s okay. Acting normally, just shook up._

_At that age, I’d be shook up, too, after a fall like that._

“Do you feel sick?” Kateri asked, stepping back and pocketing her penlight.

“I don’t think so.”

 _Good_. Kateri relaxed an iota more. “Headache?”

“Just a little.” _Not surprised. Doesn’t mean you have a concussion though_ , “but not bad, and it’s not gotten worse.”

“Okay,” Kateri heaved a sigh of relief— _thank bloody h**l, and thank God_ , “I don’t think you have a concussion, but if you start to feel worse in any way, I need you to come tell me or one of your grandparents. Immediately. Understand?”

Tali nodded.

 _Good. No trying to be a hero. Concussions are serious_.

“Good,” Kateri rubbed the back of her hand up and down Tali’s arm for a moment in a soothing motion, “Let’s get you patched up, and then we’ll be done.”

“Can I have a hug then?” Tali asked, sniffing heavily and then drying her eyes on the corner of her sleeve, Kateri having helped her take her coat off before they came into the kitchen.

Kateri smiled, “Of course, you can.”

Now it was time for the patching up. Kateri started with the scrapes on Tali’s head, then did her hands, and then started on her knees. _I’ve seen worse, but these pants are probably scrap. I once fell going flat out. Bloody h**l. My hands and knees almost looked like road kill. Felt like I was picking gravel out of my skin for a week_. As Kateri finished cleaning Tali’s scraped knees, the front door opened, and Mrs. Skye called out a greeting and then, seconds later, appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, carrying two grocery bags.

Mrs. Skye gasped loudly. “Tali, what happened, sweetheart?” _Yeaa, Tali is a bit of a sight. Better than earlier_.

“I fell, Grandma, coming back from the bus,” Tali replied, “Miss Kateri helped me.”

“And one second and I’ll be done,” Kateri added, quickly putting Neosporin on the scraped knees before covering them with gauze. “And I’m done.” She stepped back to allow Mrs. Skye to hug and fuss over her granddaughter and check on her.

The buzz of her phone in her pocket drew Kateri’s attention away from the conversation going on in the room. _Text buzz, not call buzz. Wash your hands. Then check it_. Kateri washed her hands quickly, removing a couple stains of Tali’s blood from her fingers. _Bloody h**l_. _Don’t let your mind go there. Just some scrapes. Nothing like before_. When Kateri’s hands were dried, she pulled out her personal phone which she had stuck in her pocket before leaving her room. It was a text from Clinton that had caused the buzz. *Mission complete. Heading back from GA. ETA three hours.*

_Georgia? Bloody h**l. That’ll be a story._

_Okay … it’s 4:15 now. Clinton usually does flight time ETAs, so factoring in traffic, if they don’t have to go back to HQ first, they’ll be home 8ish._

*Understood. Everyone okay?* The last question centered around the unease that had been plaguing her the whole time the mission began. _Whole situation’s just plain bloody weird. Feels like I’m half without a limb without Clinton and the others around_.

*All good.* _Thank bloody h**l._

Deciding against not telling Clinton or Jess about what had happened over the phone— _it’s not like she’s in the hospital with a concussion. They’ll just worry the whole trip back if I do. Mrs. Skye can send them a message if she feels it necessary. Prob’ly better coming from her anyway_ —Kateri slipped her phone back into her pocket and looked back up. Mrs. Skye had just finish fussing … _for the moment_. _That’s how good mothers … and grandmothers … are_.

“Thank you, Kateri. Is Tali alright?” Mrs. Skye asked.

“I don’t think she has a concussion,” Kateri replied … _at least she’s not showing any signs for now_ , “I’ve checked her over as best I know how. Concussion symptoms don’t always present immediately—I’m not saying this to scare you, Tali—but as long as we keep an eye out for the next day or two, I don’t think there’s anything more we need to do.”

Mrs. Skye nodded and turned back toward Tali, “If you start to feel worse, sweetheart, you need to tell us immediately.”

 _Told her that already. Not that you’d know that_.

Tali nodded. Her earlier shakiness had faded, and her tears had dried. “Can I go work on my homework now?”

 _A kid that actually wants to do homework? That’s a nice thing to here_.

Mrs. Skye was about to agree, but Kateri shook her head, “Why don’t you take a break until after supper?” _If in a few hours she’s still not showing symptoms even after a meal, that’ll be another check in favor of no concussion. A mental break after getting shook up won’t hurt either_.

“I’ve got some projects due tomorrow!” Tali protested, a frown crossing her face for a moment until the face she was making probably pulled on the scrape on her forehead. Then she winced, and her face smoothed out.

“And you’ll have time after supper to work on them and breaks tomorrow, too. They’re not due first period,” Mrs. Skye replied firmly, backing Kateri up, “Explain to your teachers what happened, and if they have a problem with that, you know where to send them.”

_(Grand)mom for the win!_

_I’ll help and tell ‘em a few things, too._

As a pleasant distraction, Kateri shared the news that Jess and the others were on their way back home, and after crowing in delight, Tali departed back upstairs to her room with a smile on her face. When her footsteps had died away on the stairs, Mrs. Skye turned to Kateri.

“You have medical training?”

 _Kinda_.

“I’ve gone through the Bureau’s Operational Medicine Program for field medics,” Kateri clarified, leaning back against the counter and wrapping both arms around her abdomen. _Even with Tali on a chair, that wasn’t comfortable. Can’t take more meds for a bit either. Bloody h**l_. “I’m not a medic, but I have enough training to act as one in a pinch. Given what unit I was in before Jess recruited … it was advantageous for me to know how to patch myself up, and I’ve needed my skills in the field with the field several times, too.”

“And you’re sure she’s okay?” Mrs. Skye confirmed, “I can take her to the doctor’s.”

Kateri nodded, “I don’t think that’s necessary for now. Tali is showing no signs of a concussion currently. Yes, she has a mild headache, but unless it gets worse, I’m not concerned. I did the same thing she did once. It was just on a train platform, not the sidewalk, and I had a headache, too. Nothing else happened. I think it’s best just to watch her for now.”

Mrs. Skye sighed and nodded and turned back towards the grocery bags she had hurriedly deposited by the kitchen door a few minutes before. “Thank you for helping her, dear. I’m glad you were here when Nelson and I were gone.”

 _Glad, too!_ “Glad I could help,” Kateri replied frankly, “Just sorry Tali was hurt. I’d be quite happy if I never had to use my skills for anything worse than patching up scrapes and skinned knees ever again.

The rest of the afternoon passed quietly, thankfully, with no problematic symptoms rearing their ugly heads. Plane delays and traffic problems, meanwhile, struck the team on their way back from Georgia, and the original time estimate of 8pm came and went.

It was about 9:30pm when Kateri finally heard the front door open, and soft voices begin to drift up from downstairs. Once Tali had finished her schoolwork earlier or as much as she could accomplish that evening, Kateri had found herself invited upstairs to see Tali’s stuffed animal collection. Her room reminded Kateri of her own apartment and was a funny mixture of stuffed animals, art supplies, book, knick-knacks, school stuff, and electronics.

 _Boss’ back_. _Mr. and Mrs. Skye are probably giving him the run-down of what happened._

Kateri looked down at the sleeping girl beside her on the bed. Tali had been trying valiantly to stay awake until her father got home. Between the book Kateri had been reading her, the soft bed, and Wally the Bear in her arms, sleep had finally pulled her under. _Now how on earth am I supposed to get up without waking her? Or get out of the room?_

_Age-old question of adults with sleeping children everywhere._

_But … she’ll want to see Jess, so I guess it won’t be as big a deal if I wake her_.

Getting to her feet without jostling the bed proved to be one of the hardest parts. Kateri had gone stiff sitting on the side of the bed for a while, and her ribs loudly protested the sudden movement as she climbed to her feet. Biting her lip to keep back the instinctive groan of pain, Kateri tiptoed across the room to the open door. _She’s still asleep. Good. She’ll get a nice bedtime surprise when she wakes up then_.

Jess met her in the hallway by the stairs. From the concerned look on his face, Mrs. Skye had given him the news.

“She’s asleep,” Kateri said quietly before he could say anything, “She tried to stay awake till you got home, but it’s been a long day. No change since this afternoon. Just bumps and bruises.”

 _He’s not going to feel better until he sees Tali himself_.

_I certainly wouldn’t._

Jess nodded, squeezed her shoulder, “Clinton’s downstairs. Wanted to see you quickly before he headed home.”

_So, he came all the way out here to see me briefly before he has to go all the way back almost to the city to his place…_

_That’s Clinton for you_.

Her partner was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, leaning against the wall on the other side of the hallway. Clinton looked well, if tired, and stepped forward to greet Kateri as soon as she appeared coming down the steep, narrow staircase.

“Heard you had an interesting day, kid,” her partner said as a greeting, wrapping an arm around her shoulders in a quick hug.

Kateri gave a wry smile, “Yeaaa. Not as interesting as the case, though. How the h**l did you end up in Georgia?”

“That’s a story for another day. How are you feeling?”

“Better.”

“Good,” the arm around her shoulders tightened for a moment and then loosened so that she could step back, “I’ll be glad when you’re back. I feel like I’m missing a limb.”

_Yeaaa, me, too!_

_It’s good to be missed_.


	3. (Good) Secrets Revealed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The long awaited talk between Clinton and Kateri! I hope it lives up to everyone expectations.
> 
> Edited: July 26

The most defining moment of Kateri’s life was almost certainly the death of her parents. Without their earth-shattering and world-up-heaving death, Kateri was quite sure that her life would not have been in any way the same, that she never would have ended up on the path that she had ended up on, that she never would have worked with the FBI or met her team. The death of her parents changed everything. Without their death, there would have been no foster care, no abuse, no bullying ( _not at that school, at_ least), and no Billy. Kateri’s time in foster care and the abuse she suffered taught her much about overcoming trials and adversity, about picking yourself up and keeping on going when the chips were down and everything seemed against you, about finding friends in the unlikeliest of places. Despite its succession of ups and downs that could stretch for years at a time, her friendship with Billy set Kateri on her path toward the FBI and began her web of contacts that would serve her well in later years, and it was that friendship that also helped her end up in Organized Crime, her experience in which influenced her ending up with the Fugitive Response Team for that first mission in 2015.

But that most defining moment was also the worst of her life. At age 8, many children see the parents as superheroes, Mom and Dads who know everything about every subject imaginable, can do anything, and are always there whenever you need them. _Always thought my father hung the moon._ But in an instant, all of that was taken away for Kateri. Family or the lack thereof has a massive impact on any child’s life, and it did on Kateri’s. A succession of foster families couldn’t replace what she had lost.

In terms of navigating very complicated and sometimes horrible relationships, working with Organized Crime had been at least mildly similar to living through foster care … _the not so good parts_ … again. That had made it all the more of a relief— _once I realized all the benefits of having a good team and a competent partner at my back_ —when she ended up with Jess’ Fugitive Response Team. Her new team had become the family she hadn’t had since her parents had died, and it always amused her to hypothesize on where each team member fit into the family-ish dynamic that popped up from time to time … _more and more frequently as the years past, or so it seems._

_Jess, the father-figure who can seem a little distant at times but bends over backwards to help us and protect us. Should have red hair considering his temper from time to time._

_Clinton, the wise, cool uncle who sometimes seems to know somebody almost everywhere and is always ready with a word of sage advice or the latest one-line zinger … depending on the situation. Also, my periodic mother-hen. And … I wish he was my father. Maybe you sh … Maybe someday._

_Kenny’s the overprotective, jock-looking big brother. Just he’s a whole lot smarter than he looks and a lot more socially conscious than a lot of the football player types … at least those I knew from back in the day._

_Hana … she’s the kinda quirky, geeky little sister and … very, very crafty. The type you don’t have ever let unsupervised near your tech unless (A) you really trust her or (B) you don’t mind the risk of getting harmless joke programs ending up on your computer or phone._

_Barnes … team mom, I guess, by process of elimination. The very-efficient type, who’ll go Mama Bear if necessary._

How exactly Kateri herself fit into the family dynamic was a little harder for her to figure out sometimes or at least harder to put into words. _Me, I guess … I’m the slightly troubled older sister who has more scars than pairs of shoes_ _… I’d probably get a lot of grief for saying that, though. I also know people in a lot of places … just for less pleasant reasons than Clinton’s web._

Defining the relationships between Kateri and her teammates was slightly more difficult for her to put into words mentally. She was quite close in one way or another with all of her teammates. One did not last for almost five years in a team that lived in each other’s pockets for days or weeks on end without getting along. _If we got along like my old unit did, we would have self-destructed long ago._ The team was really like a kinda weird family. They knew each other’s strengths and weaknesses, favorite foods, coffee orders, quirks and little habits.

With three of her five teammates, Kateri deemed them to be close friends. Kenny was the closest thing she had to a brother anymore ( _haven’t been able to call Billy that in a long time, a very long time despite our seesawing relationship_ ), and she had said as much to Kenny on more than one occasion. The feeling was returned with gusto, and Kenny made it a habit of looking out for here whenever Clinton couldn’t for whatever reason.

Clinton.

Her best friend.

Her partner of almost five years.

In some ways Kateri’s relationship with her partner was the simplest and yet the most complicated of them all. He was her partner, her best friend, the one who knew some of her darkest secrets. Yet, he was also the closest thing she had to a father, not that she had ever worked up the courage to tell him that. Several times she had almost worked up the courage to do so, close enough to feel the words to start such a conversation forming on her tongue, but then fear had choked her before she could spoke.

Kateri hadn’t even said anything when she was lying on the floor of that warehouse slowly drowning in her own blood, the memories of which time were etched into her mind in crystal clarity … after the fog of injuries, medicine, and exhaustion had faded. _Why is it we forget the things we’d rather remember, and don’t remember the things we would love to forget?_

Not even after she woke up in the hospital bed after never expecting to wake again. Not even after she first remembered seeing Clinton at her bedside.

As Kateri had lain dying— _or so I thought. Drowning … or feeling like you are … in your own blood certainly leads towards that conclusion_ —part of her had wished she had said something, regret tinging her fading thoughts, but part of her still feared to do so.

Kateri was, as much as she didn’t want to admit it to herself, terrified of what the outcome might be if she said something.

If her partner didn’t return the feelings, what then?

Would it screw up their working relationship, or worse?

 _I’d rather this secret die with me, I think, than risk losing it all_.

Despite her periodic risk-taking during her days with Organized Crime— _got that trained out of me quite quickly_ —Kateri was inherently wary and cautious when it came to her personal life. Childhood abuse and bullying had left permanent non-physical scars, which hadn’t just vanished after she was removed from those toxic environments. They had just laned dormant, sometimes rearing their ugly heads in major ways, other times just influencing her thoughts and decision making.

That cautiousness … and fear … were even influencing this decision … as much as she trusted … and loved … her partner.

_Everything to gain, but everything to lose if it goes wrong._

* * *

Christmas was rapidly approaching, and Kateri was privately looking forward to this Christmas more than she had any others in a long time. For the previous several years since she had met her team, her Christmas breaks had always followed the same routine, except when she was injured. A couple days before Christmas … _or once on Christmas Eve_ … the team met for a few hours to exchange small presents and check up on everyone before going their separate ways for the holiday and any following break time/time-off. Kateri’s Christmases themselves were low-key and quiet. She made a habit of going to Christmas Eve and Christmas Day mass, if possible, and often did some volunteer work as well. _That way I’m not spending Christmas by myself_.

This Christmas was going to be a whole lot different, however. The team still had plans to do their usual team get together on the 23rd, but Kateri was going to be spending Christmas itself, of course, with the Skyes _since a passel full of broken ribs take a lot longer than 3ish weeks to heal._ The Skyes seemed to go all out for Christmas, and Kateri was looking forward to it. By the time Christmas was approaching much closer, she had stopped feeling like she was intruding, and not being on her own for Christmas was going to be … nice.

A large Christmas tree had taken up residence in the living room, making the already crowded space even more crowded. _Had to rearrange all the furniture just to make room for the thing_. It was huge, its top reaching almost to the ceiling! (Kateri’s apartment was too small for a Christmas tree _unless I want to put it smack in the middle of the walkway_. She kept a small fake one on her dining room table instead.) A small star adorned the top of the tree; white lights were strung around it; and various ornaments decorated the tree.

Other Christmas decorations covered the house, some homemade, others store-bought. A giant wreath now hung for a peg on the front door. A hunter-green candle in a circle of some type of greenery that Kateri thought was holly had been deposited on the dining room table. The bookcases, the tables, the fireplace mantels: there were Christmas decorations everywhere … enough to make the house homey and Christmasy, not so many to make it seem tacky. For days, also, the smell of goodies, some of which Kateri had helped make, had been drifting through the house. _And making me hungry … Sounds like something I’d hear out of Kenny._

Being with the Skyes for Christmas did mean that there were a couple of extra presents to add to Kateri’s shopping list, and considering that actually going somewhere to shop, which she hated anyway and avoided like the plague, was next to impossible with her injuries, Kateri was very, very glad for Amazon. _And for teammates who’ll run errands for me_.

A box of tea from a good tea shop in the city for Jess … along with yet another jar of honey. _We’ll see how long it takes him to go through this jar …_

A very big bag of coffee … _not from Starbucks_ … for Hana, because _sometimes I think she has coffee in her veins, not blood …_

A gift-card for Barnes for a restaurant she and Charlotte enjoyed. _Sometimes overheard conversations in the bus are so convenient when it comes to gift-giving._

A box of his favorite granola bars for Kenny as well as a promised batch of double-chocolate brownies once she was strong enough to cook, because _boys and their food_.

And for her partner, there was a piece he needed for the sniper rifle he was modifying. _Building? I don’t remember. It’s been a bit since he told me about it._

The presents for Mr. and Mrs. Skye as well as Tali had been chosen after consultation with Clinton and, for Tali’s, after approval from her father. There was a box of tea from the same shop as Jess’ for Mr. Skye, a skein of yarn in her most used color for Mrs. Skye … _since among all her other talents, she can knit … much better than me_ , and an [adorable stuffed Dalmatian puppy](http://www.stuffedark.com/images/dalmatiannj.jpg) for Tali.

* * *

There were many days in Kateri’s life—32 years, almost 33 now … _less than two months to go_ —that held special meaning to her, more days than just birthdays or holidays. These were days that marked important moments in her life for better or for worse: the day her parents died, the day she met Billy, the day she joined the FBI, the day Organized Crime recruited her, the day she met the team, the day Jess recruited her to join the team. The list went on. _Those are the high points, though_.

It was time to add a new date to that list, though Kateri didn’t know that fact yet when she awoke from a nap Saturday afternoon, four days before Christmas. It was just over two weeks since she left the hospital, and her strength was slowly but surely continuing to return. _By which I mean I no longer feel the need to sleep every bloody time I bloody turn around_. A busy morning spent helping Mrs. Skye with Christmas preparations, however, did call for a short nap since there was more to do that afternoon. _And I don’t want to be crashing my dinner time_.

A quick trip to the bathroom and one check of her phone later, Kateri headed up the hallway from her room toward the kitchen. _I’ve drunk so much tea the last couple weeks, it’s really growing on me. NOT that I’m abandoning my coffee, but I might just start drinking tea more frequently than just when I’m feeling bad._ The house was quiet. Jess and Tali and Mr. Skye had left earlier, something to do with Christmas presents or other Christmas prep to do in town. It seemed like Kateri and Mrs. Skye were the only two in the house currently.

That belief proved false a few seconds later when Kateri got up the hallway almost to the stairs, and soft voices started to drift down towards her from the front of the house. Clinton’s voice she recognized immediately. Mrs. Skye’s voice became recognizable a second later. They were both talking softly, and the actual conversation was indistinguishable.

A few steps further, and Kateri heard her partner mention her name. Her footsteps were quiet by long habit, and Kateri was wearing soft-soled slippers, which _means he probably can’t hear me coming, but he’s talking about me_. She paused, hesitating, _Do I go back to my room, get some tea later? Don’t want to interrupt a private conversation._

Clinton’s words that came next rooted Kateri’s feet to the floor, stopping dead in her tracks. Her wandering thoughts screeched to a grinding halt at the words she could barely believe.

“She’s the closest thing to a daughter I’ll ever have.” It was hard for Kateri to dissect voices without seeing the body language that accompanied them, but the depth of feeling in her partner’s voice was easy to recognize.

Tears unbidden pricked at Kateri’s eyes, and she bit her lip until she could almost taste blood, as she fought to keep her emotions in check. _This can’t be happening, can it? I can’t have heard you right … could I?_ Those were the words she had always hoped to hear, but driven by her cautious nature when it came to personal relationships, Kateri had always tried to keep herself from wishing too much, from hoping too much. Now it seemed like all her dreams were about to come true, and Kateri could barely believe it.

“Did you ever tell her?” Mrs. Skye asked, her voice now drifting across clearly in the quiet house. Kateri wasn’t that far away now, just a step away and around one corner.

“No,” Clinton replied, the same depth of feeling in his voice. “We’re close, very close,” he emended, “but … I didn’t want to make things awkward between us … if she didn’t …”

_Bloody h**l, that’s what I’ve been telling myself … just from the opposite angle._

_Not sure I’ve ever heard him hesitate that much in two sentences either._

One further step took Kateri to the bottom of the steps that led up into the dining room. Her foot landed on a creaky spot, and the resulting noise alerted Clinton and Mrs. Skye to her presence. The other woman’s eyes went wide, and Kateri saw her partner’s shoulders suddenly stiffen in a move that was more typical of Kateri herself than Clinton.

_I’d imagine I’d have the same reaction if I’d just spilled my guts on the same topic, and I suddenly realized you were behind me._

_Don’t worry. The feelings are most definitely reciprocated_.

Fighting to keep her voice level despite the rush of emotions roaring through her and threatening to bleed into her voice— _I wonder if I look as shellshocked as I feel_ —Kateri said, “Apparently we’re both rather oblivious, Clinton, because that’s what I’ve been telling myself, too, for the last two and a half years.”

Mrs. Skye looked rather surprised, also, but Clinton’s face, once he turned toward the doorway where Kateri was standing, was carefully, totally, utterly blank. She imagined she’d look the same if the situation were reversed. _Don’t show how much you’re effected until you know how the situation’s going to end_. Kateri wondered what her partner was thinking at that moment.

Finally, Clinton broke the silence, “Come on, kid. Let’s take a walk.”

“Yea, sure,” Kateri replied automatically, even as her brain countered, _In these temps? Has it even hit freezing yet?_

Clinton turned back towards his mother for a moment, and then Mrs. Skye added, “I’ll keep the others out of the barn for now.” _I think I missed something_.

The two grabbed their coats, Clinton helping Kateri into hers to ease any contortion-induced pain from her still-healing ribs and abdomen, and together they stepped outside into the cold. Neither spoke as they walked across the frosty grass from the house to the barn. The sun was already starting to set, and the low wind nipped at any exposed skin. Why they wanted to go sit in the barn, Kateri wasn’t sure, since there wasn’t any heat in it … _thus why I always wear a coat while helping Mr. Skye …_ as far as she knew and the open windows meant you had a to wear a coat on inside anyway, but Clinton seemed to know what he was doing, and Kateri’s trust in her partner was absolute.

Inside the barn Clinton steered them toward one of the corners nearer the house at the far end from the open window. There was an old, small outdoor couch ( _??_ ) up against one wall and what Kateri suddenly realized was an outdoor space heater used for heating patios. The two moved without talking, without words. _Who needs words when we have our mind-meld thingy?_ Kateri was shooed off toward the bench while Clinton hooked the space heater up to the generator. Within a couple of minutes, he returned carrying a chair, a blanket tucked across one arm.

“You’re shivering,” Clinton said quietly, passing the blanket to her, “It’ll be warmer in a few minutes.”

_Yes, I suppose I am a little. It’s bloody cold out here._

“Niáwen.” Kateri took the blanket and, swinging her legs up onto the couch with a hiss of pain at the twisting movement, and rested her back against the couch arm and tucked the blanket over her legs.

_Now where to start?_

_Who is starting?_

For a minute there was silence. Clinton looked at Kateri, and Kateri starred off into the distance, trying to find the words to begin. Despite the situation, the silence was one of those rare awkward silences between the two. _Don’t think we’ve had something this awkward since … I shot him last year. That was a disaster of a mission and a month._

“Back in that warehouse,” Kateri finally began slowly, “before the medics arrived, you told me that I shouldn’t have taken the bullet for you. Do you remember what I said?”

The look in Clinton’s eyes was almost heartbreaking, but his words were level when he replied, “I remember the whole scene in technicolor and probably will for the rest of my life.” _Same. Almost easier for me. I just had to be at peace with dying. You almost had to live with me dying._ His brow furrowed for a second as if he was running through the scene in his mind, “You tried to say something at least twice, but I couldn’t understand you. All you could get out clearly was ‘Family.’”

_Talking while drowning in your own blood, not so easy._

_Not enough air_.

Kateri fastened her eyes on the blanket covering her legs, studying the weave of the cloth and running a corner between her fingers. “That was all I could get out … at that point,” her voice was slow, almost hesitant, “It wasn’t all I wanted to say, but … I was running out of time and,” her face twisted, “air, so that had to be enough. It was probably the closest I’d ever come to saying it, save for when I tease you about mothering me.” The last few words came out in a rush, and then Kateri paused, a sad smile lifting one corner of her mouth, “I’ve almost … slipped … a couple times.”

_Almost said ‘Dad,’ instead of ‘Mom’._

_Don’t look at Clinton._

_Not the time to start crying or something_.

“I’d never told you, and I wished at that point I had, but I thought it was too late, and it wasn’t exactly something I was going to write in a goodbye letter.” _That’d just be cruel … if you had felt the same away. Kinda cruel even if you hadn’t._ Kateri finished quietly with a shrug of her shoulders, not that one could see it much buried beneath her puffy parka.

 _Thank God that stack of letters on my desk wasn’t needed_.

_Think I might have to rewrite ‘em yet again now. Clinton’s, at least._

Now Clinton’s voice was a little rough but still about as flat as he could probably make it at that point. “That was a month ago.”

Kateri gave another helpless shrug, “I thought I was dying. Everybody has regrets when they think they’re dying. Once I woke up in the hospital and could think a bit more clearly, well … it’s like what you said inside, what if …” She paused, obviously struggling to find the right words. _Bloody h**l. Come on, brain. Cooperate!_ “I was … terrified really of the outcome, what it might be if … Probably just me being too bloody cautious and … oblivious, for one of the rare times in my life … but all I could think about was … what if, what if …” Her voice trailed off.

“We had a good thing going, and if I didn’t have similar feelings, you didn’t want to screw it up,” Clinton finished her thought for her. From what he had said inside, his thinking had been exactly the same. _Bloody h**l … if only we’d known. If only we’d known._

“Yeaaaa,” Kateri replied, glancing over at him for a second.

 _Before half-an-hour ago, I would have preferred the secret die with me, rather than risk losing it all_.

_If only we’d known. We know each other so well … How’d we miss this? How’d I not put the pieces together … have to figure what pieces needed putting together … there had to be some signs._

_If only we’d known. Could have saved myself a lot of angst over the years and a lot of bloody seesawing and what-ifs._

There was a small part of Kateri that could still hardly believe that she and Clinton were finally having _the_ conversation, that her longed-for wish was finally coming true.

“My father died when I was 8. I barely remember my parents now. I liked some of my foster parents, got along with them, but I never would have called them my parents in anything more than name only,” Kateri’s voice was quiet and a little sad, her eyes distant, “We meshed easily when Jess first paired us, and for a long time you were just my partner and then my best friend. You know, I’ll never forget that first summer. The concrete jungle that is New York City, I can navigate with my eyes shut. I’ve lived here for over twenty years, but that first summer, an actual jungle, an actual forest …”

_I was hopeless._

_More than hopeless._

Clinton actually chuckled this time, “Despite the way you dressed then, you were hopeless. The first couple missions where we had tracking to do, I was half-afraid to take my eyes off of you. If I lost you, I wasn’t sure I’d find you. Unless I put a compass in your hand, you wouldn’t have known east from west. Or poison ivy from English ivy for that matter.”

_Guilty as charged._

“Oi, I lived in New York City almost all my life. Not a lot of woods in the city. I hadn’t been on the Reservation except for the occasional short visit in a long time,” Kateri defended herself, a smirk pulling up one corner of the mouth and driving the shadows from her eyes for a moment, “But the point I’m trying to make is, you could do all that in your sleep, and I, the partner you got saddled with …”

“Assigned,” Clinton cut her off gently in the same tone of voice as when she had just done something … _stupid?_ … and he was mothering her.

Kateri gave a rueful smile, glancing over at him for a second, “Okay, assigned. I was hopeless. I’d gotten used to basically teaching myself what I needed to know if I didn’t know it already. Thomas and I couldn’t stand each other. Aside from his … personality problems, people weren’t his thing by any stretch of the imagination. Data was. Why my old boss assigned us together is still a mystery to me … besides he was an idiot … but now I’m really going off topic. My point is … I was hopeless, and I’m quite sure I slowed you down those first couple missions, but you never got frustrated. Your solution without a sigh or a complaint was simply to drag me out to the woods once we had a break from cases for a bit and some decent weather and just teach me what you thought I needed to know so …”

“You didn’t get yourself lost or killed.”

 _Yea, basically_.

“And you didn’t … don’t … know then how much that meant to me even back then,” Kateri continued, a depth of emotion in her voice. _Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Not now_. “You took your own time to help me, to teach me when you didn’t have to. When I needed help outside of work with stuff, you’d help then, too. Pick me up when my truck wouldn’t start. You never complained.”

“Everything I did I would have done for the others in a heartbeat,” Clinton’s voice was low, “You just have low expectations.”

_Pretty sure the shrinks have said similar things._

_It’s just a lot less patronizing coming out of your mouth, Clinton, than theirs_.

“Probably true, but also beside the point,” Kateri replied, “And then once you realized some of my worse habits, you started fussing over me. Sometimes, it’s a little embarrassing, but that someone cared enough to fuss … Before you and the others, I’m not sure anyone had since Billy went off the rails.”

“He was on the rails once?”

_Wellllllllll._

_Slightly debatable._

_That’s a comment I’d expect out of Kenny._

_Considering your first meeting with Billy, can’t blame you though._

“Really went off the rails,” Kateri corrected herself, “and yes, mostly, a really long time ago. You fussed, and I teased you back about mothering me, and that went on for a while until one day after you all bailed me out of jail a couple years ago, I’d done something … think I forgot to eat lunch again,” Now that she’d gotten herself started, the words almost spilled out of her, “and you were fussing, and then I almost slipped and said the opposite of ‘Yes, mother,’ and I realized what had been starring me in the face for a long time, and I hadn’t been able to put a name on before: you’d become the father I hadn’t had for two decades.” She paused again, hesitating, the flow of words stopping for a moment. “But … I was terrified that if I said something, I’d screw everything up, and if I screwed up our partnership, I might lose you, I might lose the team … and,” her voice almost broke, “you all are all I’ve got basically anymore.”

_A rock and a hard place._

_Risk losing the whole family to possibly gain a father_.

_Everything to gain, but everything to lose._

“Oh, kid,” Clinton’s voice was sad, “I can’t say my thinking was that much different, though. I was concerned about your reaction. I didn’t want to make things awkward or worse if you didn’t reciprocate, so I didn’t say anything, but I really wished I had when I was sitting with you when you were …”

_While I was dying?_

_Almost dying._

_Bloody h**l_.

“We’re quite a pair of oblivious idiots,” Kateri declared with a somewhat watery laugh that turned into a half-sob and then a wince of pain as her ribs were jarred.

“Very good at concealing our true feelings,” Clinton corrected, “Though, at first, maybe unaware of our feelings would also work.”

“Or all three,” Kateri added dryly with a rueful half-smile.

“Maybe,” Clinton hedged, “I think I realized it after we lost you two years ago,”— _i.e., when I got kidnapped and locked in a shed … no, it was a tack room_ —“Before that my ‘mother-henning,’ as you call it,” his eyes were fondly amused as he said that, “was normal, at least from my side. You have your weaknesses. I have mine. I watch your back, and you watch mine. It was normal until it wasn’t. When you got taken … after Kenny called with the news … I finally realized that day, especially after we found you,”— _you found me in that room, carried me out_ —“what had been staring me in the face for a long time. Our partnership wasn’t so simple anymore.”

 _I think I’m going to cry_.

Clinton paused and took a deep breath and then soldiered on, “Considering the job we do, I realized many years ago that I would probably never have a family of my own or kids,”— _my thinking, too_ —“You know the complexities of trying to do justice to a relationship with a job like ours. I regretted it, that I’d probably not have a family of my own, but … then I realized I had you … but then … I almost lost you again.”

_Bloody h**l_

_Yea, I’m going to cry now._

“I’m hard to kill, and you’re not getting rid of me that easily,” Kateri’s voice was half-choked now, and tears were starting to trickle down her cheeks.

The space heater had done its job, and the room, at least their corner thereof, had grown warm enough that Kateri had shoved the blanket aside a little while before. Without the blanket tucked over her legs as a tripping hazard, Kateri could rise unhindered. Getting up was a slow endeavor, still frustratingly slow, and the movements brought a few more tears to her eyes from the pain, but after a minute she was on her feet. Clinton matched her movements and pulled Kateri into a careful hug, mindful of her injuries.

_Bloody h**l._

_This is going to the best Christmas since my parents died._

_Never expected to get this wish to come true_.

Kateri tucked her cheek in against her partner’s shoulder and allowed herself to cry both in sad remembrance of what she’d lost over the years and for joy of what she’d just gained. Crying and the occasional hitched sob made her ribs hurt, but it was a pain Kateri gladly accepted. Her partner’s arm around her back tightened for a moment, and he gently rested his chin on the top of her head, the other hand coming up to cup the back of her neck. From the occasional hitch in his shoulders, he seemed to be crying, too.

Clinton pressed a gentle kiss to her hair, “Konnorónhkhwa … kheién’a.”[1]

The lump in her throat grew, and it took Kateri a minute before she could force a reply out, “Konnorónhkhwa, rakéni.”[2]

“What’s this going to do to the team?” Kateri asked, finally pulling back after another minute or two and drying her eyes on the cuff of her coat.

 _Because I really don’t want to gain a father and lose the rest of my team_.

“I don’t think it should do anything unless the others have a problem,” Clinton replied, “which would … surprise me, and I don’t think Jess will take issue with it. We’re not related. We’re not in each other’s chain of command. We’re not in a physical relationship,”— _ew. Just ew. Ick_ —“As long as we’re professional about things, I don’t see why there should be a problem.”

_Why do I have a feeling you looked at all the regulations?_

_And thank bloody h**l_.

Kateri glanced down at her watch. She was surprised to see about an hour had passed since they came outside. _Not sure if it feels like more or less than an hour passed._

Clinton noticed her movement and glanced at his own watch. “We should probably head back inside before someone sends out a search party.”

_Yea, probably._

_I hope your parents’ll be okay with all … this_.

Clinton turned off and unplugged the space heater— _don’t wanna burn down the building_ —and moved his chair back to its original position, and Kateri grabbed the blanket she had been using and quickly refolded it, leaving it draped over the back of the couch. When all was set to rights, he gestured for Kateri to precede him toward the door.

“How do you feel about being adopted?” Clinton asked as he pulled the barn door shut behind them.

_What do you call this long session of admitting our feelings?  
_

“I thought that was what this all was basically?” Kateri replied with a laugh that made her wince briefly and a confused frown.

“Well, almost,” Clinton agreed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders in a quick hug as they started up the slope toward the house, “But I think my parents are going to adopt you, too, and probably Tali.”

A soft smile crossed Kateri's face. She had grown extremely fond of Tali and of the Skyes during her stay so far. “I'd like that. Not so sure about ending up the boss for an uncle, though. That might be a little weird."

 _Never thought it would take nearly dying for this to happen, but I’ll take it_.

"We'll see how everything works out," Clinton noted, his arm tightening around her shoulders for a second, "This will be an adjustment for everyone, even us. You'll need to do what you're comfortable with. That being said," he paused and got this look on his face that Kateri, when she looked up, couldn't decipher, "I don't think Jess would mind, though."

_Hmmmm.._

_Who needs other Christmas presents, I finally have a father again … and maybe an entire second family._

* * *

[1] Mohawk. “I love you … my daughter.”

[2] Mohawk. “I love you, father.”


	4. Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N #1: Thank you to Diana_Of_Wales and Vita_sine_fantasy_mors_est for lots of plot bunnies. The ending of the last chapter has been updated, and the beginning of this chapter has also been heavily updated due to those rampaging plot bunnies.
> 
> A/N #2: As of very recently I am now on Tumblr--link on my profile--if anyone wants to talk about FBI/FBI-Most Wanted, this series, other fandoms, fanfiction, writing, etc. more than the comments section on A03 allows.
> 
> A/N #3: I am postponing posting the first chapter of Reveille from August 8 to August 12 because (A) during that period I am moving half-way across the USA and will be very, very busy and (B) Reveille needs some heavy editing/additions due to rampaging plot bunnies, a couple missing threads, and the difficulty of that episode for me to novelize. I'll be back (hopefully) to my regular posting schedule on the 12. Normal posting schedule until the 8th.

After Saturday’s revelation, everything seemed to change for Kateri, and yet nothing seemed to change. Jess, Mr. Skye, and Tali had all returned from their Christmas shopping by the time Clinton and Kateri returned to the house from the barn that afternoon so explaining things came a little more quickly than Kateri had originally expected. She quickly learned that her fleeting concerned thought … _I hope your parents’ll be okay with all … this_ … was completely unnecessary since … _everyone here, at least of the adults, had figured it out already._

_Bloody h**l!!_

Kateri was not sure whether to be amused, horrified, or a combination of both, wondering what everyone knowing already said about her obliviousness, everyone else’s perceptiveness. _Were we really that obvious? Bloody h**l. Must be out of practice. Never would have survived undercover as that much of an open book_. _But … don’t need to be like that anymore._ Kateri wondered how the h**l she hadn’t put the pieces together … _like everyone else apparently has_ … because now that the revelations were actually revealed on both sides and she started thinking back to some of her and Clinton’s interactions over the past couple of years, _how the h**l did I not put this together before?_ Now that she knew, now that she actually knew, it was like someone had pulled off blinders and the pieces were slotting into place … how some of what she had originally interpreted as him being a good, if somewhat overprotective, partner … wasn’t … just that. _Okay, maybe we were a little more obvious than I thought_. _Did the others figure it out, or just the Skyes and the boss?_

Jess knew … _because this is the boss we’re talking about; we weren’t as subtle as, at least, I thought; he’s known Clinton a h**l of a lot longer than I have; and it’s kind of his job to understand people anyway._ Once he realized what had happened, Jess had blinked, muttered something that sounded like “it’s about time” … _how bloody long ago did you figure it out???,_ and then stepped forward to hug them both. Kateri couldn’t quite catch what Jess said in Clinton’s ear that drew something between a laugh and a groan, but the “Happy for you. You deserve this.” in her own ear was clear. Also, like Clinton had figured, Jess didn’t see a problem with the new situation as concerning team operations. _Not even sure how much this’ll change our dynamic at work. We’ll see. Feelings haven’t changed. Just there out in the open now._

Mr. and Mrs. Skye knew … _because parents seem to know everything and what’s five years of learning to read Clinton against a lifetime?_ They were more than happy with the new situation. _What grandparents aren’t glad for more grandchildren, even de facto adopted ones?_ And Kateri, as Clinton had expected, found herself adopted, and the Skyes became just Nelson and Marilou … for the moment. They … and Tali … had already been treating her like one of the family, Kateri had felt. Now it was just more … _official_. Their ready acceptance and kindness and love touched a place deep within Kateri’s heart, and multiples times in those first few minutes after returning from the barn, she found herself blinking back tears. She wondered how long ago they had figured it out. _Was it just since I’ve been here, or did they figure Clinton out before they really met me?_ At this point, she didn’t think either would surprise her.

Tali, who hadn’t known Kateri that long or seen Kateri and Clinton interact enough to put things together … _if she would have been able to put it together at all, and if an 11 year old could see what I couldn’t, I am going to be horrified_ … was ecstatic, hugging all of them and almost bouncing off the walls for joy at the news of her favoritest _… didn’t know that was a word_ … uncle’s revelation, and delighted to have a cousin “for the first time everrrrrrrrrrrrr.”

_This is going to be the best Christmas since my parents died._

_I never expected … all my hopes to come true._

_Who needs physical presents?_

_I’ve got all I could ever want: a second father, a new cousin to dote on …. Hmmm, and maybe corrupt? … in a good way of course … some adopted almost-grandparents? … technically an adopted almost-uncle._

_Still not sure about that. That’d take a bit of getting used to … to think of Jess as anything other than as a friend, as the boss._

At the same time, life continued on the same in a lot of ways. Kateri’s daily routine remained the same. Things went on at the house, as normal. As much as it was unfamiliar in some ways … _this is a little different than the family dynamic in the team_ … somehow it still felt surprisingly normal to settle in as part of the family, to become accustomed to (more) endearments, casual touches, hugs from Tali … _lots of hugs from Tali._

_I’ve got two families now._

_My life’s been hard in a lot of ways, but I’ve also been richly blessed_.

* * *

On the 23rd was the team’s usual Christmas gathering/present-exchange/lunch thing. The revelation to the team went as well or better than Kateri had hoped it would, though it was still somewhat awkward at first, helped along by the fact that … _some of them knew, too! Bloody h**l. How the h**l did everyone figure this thing out but us?????_ Kenny had had an inkling there was something more going on between Kateri and Clinton, though he hadn’t put all the pieces together yet. Hana hadn’t realized, but Barnes had already figured it out.

As the older woman said to Kateri quietly later when asked how she’d figured it out, “I’m a parent. I know how I must look when I’m looking at my Anais sometimes, and Clinton, well, some of his looks occasionally weren’t at all subtle if you saw him at the right moment.”

* * *

Christmas Day dawned clear and cool. Because it was Christmas, everyone had plans to sleep in. Breakfast was set later at 10:30am or so— _once everyone’s awake, and Mrs. Skye actually has time to fix food_ —and after that, as Tali had put at dinner the previous night, “Presents!!!!” Or as Jess had quickly clarified, “Presents …. after we help Grandma put food away and the kitchen is cleaned up.”

Kateri had had designs on sleeping in for one of the rare times in her life … _when I’m not sick … body clock doesn’t usually cooperate otherwise_ , but when she awoke, the clock read 7:30am, which was late for her in general … _before I got shot_ … but still early compared to some. _Convenient on Christmas of all days that I sleep this well. I think I feel the best I have in a while. Ack, don’t jinx yourself!_ Throwing back the covers, Kateri carefully pushed herself fully upright—she had slipped down her stack of pillows in her sleep—and rose from the bed. As her ribs slowly healed, getting dressed got easier and less painful, and she had the routine down to an artform anyway after several weeks.

Within ten minutes, Kateri had dressed— _Mother would kill me if she knew how I put my shoes on these days, but with bending restrictions, shoving my feet into already tied shoes, it is. Needs must, as the saying goes—_ and combed her hair. Grabbing her personal phone and a book, Kateri left her room quietly, wary of disturbing her hosts who slept right across the hall, and headed up the hallway toward the kitchen. A book or surfing the internet would help pass the time until the others got up, but Kateri had designs on some tea, too, in the meantime. Mrs. Skye bought and made good tea, better than the stuff Kateri usually bought at the supermarket, and tea had grown on the habitual coffee drinker. _Tea’s good for somethin’ beside sick drinks_.

As Kateri reached the doorway to the living room, a few small noises from the direction of the kitchen reached her ears. _Ah, so I’m not the only one up yet after all_. She set down her phone and her copy of _The Golden Compass_ on far end of the couch, the exact position of which had been moved in order to make room for the Christmas tree in the already crowded living room, and took the steps up to the dining room. _Please, don’t let me step on any especially noisy creak spots. Please no especially creaky spots._ Even after several weeks at the Skyes, Kateri was still learning all the creaks and squeaks of the old house and didn’t want to wake anyone if the noise carried or scare the living daylights out of whoever was in the kitchen.

The second step creaked under her weight, and seconds later Clinton emerged from the kitchen. He was already dressed and looked quite awake, but since he frequently had the oft-envied gift of seeming to be able to be wide-awake seconds after waking up, that didn’t mean much.

“Morning, kid. Iotshennónnia ki Ratonniáne![1]” Her partner—father now—wrapped an arm around her shoulders for a quick hug and pressed a kiss to her hair.

The change in their relationship was only a few days old, but both had settled into it like it had been much longer. _Seems normal. Just seems right_.

“Morning. Iotshennónnia ki Ratonniáne! Thought I was the only one up,” Kateri replied, keeping her voice low in deference to the hour and the fact half the house was still asleep.

_And I have no idea how hard/soft sleepers Nelson and Marilou are_.

“I just came downstairs,” Clinton replied, stepping back into the kitchen as Kateri followed, “Do you want tea?” There was a mug set out on the counter, and the metal tea pot had been moved to the front of the stove.

“Sure. Thanks.”

A few minutes later, tea in hand, Kateri and Clinton took a seat in the living room to read a book and the paper, respectively, until the others got up. Talking too much was out of the question because everyone was sleeping, and it was too cold to go outside. _Just above freezing, my phone said_. Even the thought of going outside made Kateri shiver. After a lot of cases in crazy weather and crazy temps, she was getting a little bit spoiled to being almost constantly inside a nicely climate-controlled buildings, save for the time she spent helping Mr. Skye … _Nelson_ … with carpentry projects in the barn.

A minute or two past 8:30am, there were light creaks from upstairs. Whether it was Tali or Jess, Kateri had no idea, but from her partner’s quick glance at the ceiling and the amused grin that lit up his face, she had a pretty good feeling that he knew.

_That’s your there’s-a-story-behind-this-look_ _look_.

_I’ve seen it before._

The explanation for the look came a minute later. “Tali’s always loved Christmas. When she was younger, she used to get up really early because she was so excited. When she started waking up Jess and Angie because she was so excited, Jess made sure she knew how to tell time so he could tell her what time she could not get up before.”

Kateri snickered. _Kids, gotta love ‘em_. “What time was that?”

“8:30,” mischief and fond amusement was dancing in her partner’s face along with the faintest note of nostalgic sadness that stories about Angelyne, _God rest her soul_ , usually dredged up.

Footsteps crept down the stairs, barely noticeable except for the occasional creak, and then Tali, still in her PJs with feet hastily shoved into slippers, appeared in the living room door. Her face lit up with delight seeing that her uncle and new cousin (even that thought almost brought a fond smile to Kateri’s face) were awake, but Clinton put a finger to his lips before she could speak and gestured down the hall. Tali’s eyes went wide, and she exaggeratedly slapped one hand across her mouth, making the adults grin.

_How do kids have that much energy?_

_It is not fair in the slightest_.

Having apparently taken her uncle’s motion as a silent instruction to be silent—not as Kateri had guessed to just be carefully quiet, _since we were talking earlier briefly, though quietly_ —Tali gave them both big hugs silently and then wiggled into the space between them on the couch. Laying her head on her uncle’s shoulder, she preceded to peer over his shoulder at the newspaper.

_Must not be anything interesting in the paper_ , Kateri judged a couple of minutes later when Tali shifted to using her shoulder as a pillow, instead. _Don’t think Jess’d have a problem if Tali sees the book I’m reading._

Over the kiddo’s head, Clinton shot Kateri a questioning, concerned look. Since she was sitting on the far end of the couch, Kateri’s wounded side was up against the protection of the couch arm, but Clinton was probably concerned over whether Tali’s weight would aggravate anything. _Don’t think it should. She’s not that heavy, and her weight’s not fully on me, either_. Kateri smiled and gave the barest shake of her head. _I’m alright._

_She’s a good kid._

_And I like this having a cousin business._

_It was nice having younger siblings to look after._

_But that was a long time, and I kinda missed it_.

Kateri felt her eyes begin to sting and blinked back a few tears that wanted to form. Happy tears, but still tears. And she didn’t want to worry her par … _father, while we’re off duty. Figure out the other once we’re back at work together_ … or risk a conversation over Tali’s head. _Having a private conversation in Mohawk doesn’t work here like it did at the bus_.

_Having family again … two families now … it’s a bloody good feeling._

* * *

By 9am, the last sleepers had awoken and emerged from their beds and cocoons of blankets. _Prob’ly exaggerating slightly, but the though amuses me. Not that cold inside._ Since no one really wanted to wait an hour-and-a-half for breakfast, the time for which had been set later to allow everyone to sleep in as much as they wanted— _almost as much as they wanted. The cook has to be able to plan. Anyone still asleep at that point gets rousted unless they want cold cereal on Christmas morning … well, not really, but … wouldn’t want cold cereal any day of the year anyway_ —the time for breakfast was moved up, and everyone pitched in to help get things ready.

Christmas morning breakfast at the Skye household was an elaborate affair. There were large pots of coffee and tea, _enough coffee to probably send Hana to her happy place_ ; enough eggs to feed an army (of six people); freshly-cooked, excellent bacon that tasted better than any store-bought bacon Kateri had ever had in her life … _with rare exception home-made anything is better than store-bought anything_ ; banana chocolate-chip muffins made on Christmas Eve (Tali’s favorite kind of muffins, apparently); and even a large pot of oatmeal.

_Enough food for an army_.

_How are we supposed to eat all this?_

_Almost need Kenny here to play cleanup._

_Not sure I want to imagine how much he could eat as a teenager._

“If you turn into a tea drinker like Jess,” Clinton teased Kateri when she accepted tea at breakfast, instead of coffee, “the others will never let you hear the end of it.”

_Hehehe_. Kateri smirked, _Probably_ , and shrugged, raising her cup as if for a toast.

“Come over to the dark-side, we have tea,” Tali piled on, her eyes dancing with barely restrained mischief. Her deadpan was a fairly good imitation of her father, uncle, and grandfather’s dry sense-of-humor.

_Maybe it’s genetic._

Biting back a snort of laughter that would jolt her ribs, Kateri simply retorted teasingly to Tali, “I’d prefer the cookies,” and to Clinton, “Hey, what can I say, your mother makes good tea.”

_And I don’t need coffee so much when I’m actually getting enough sleep_.

The conversation at the table turned to other matters, and breakfast passed pleasantly. After breakfast and after all the food had been put away, the dining room and kitchen had been cleaned up, and the dishwasher had been loaded— _because no one wants to come back to a sink-full of dirty dishes and a whole lot of needed cleaning later_ —it was time for presents … to Tali’s delight. Chairs were brought into the living room from the dining room, and the six of them crowded into the room already crowded with the presence of the large Christmas tree.

_Despite the crowding I don’t feel claustrophobic at all._

_I think Tali’s about as excited for the giving as the receiving._

_I remember vaguely Christmases before my parents died._

_God rest their souls._

_My presents for them were always burning holes in my pockets_.

Jess, Clinton, and Kateri had all exchanged presents on the 23rd at the team’s usual Christmas gathering/present-exchange/lunch thing, but Kateri still had small presents for Nelson and Marilou as well as Tali.

_And as excited as Tali is and as expressive as her face is, just watching all this will be fun_.

Like with eating a meal the family cook has slaved on for hours, exchanging and unwrapping presents took a whole lot less time than wrapping all of them carefully probably had. Nelson and Marilou were pleased by Kateri’s small gifts to them— _not that I thought you’d stirred me wrong, Rakeni_ —and Tali was overjoyed by the stuffed Dalmatian puppy.[2] The look of sheer delight and joy in her eyes and the beaming smile on Tali face as the girl hugged the puppy to her chest was a sight that brought a fond smile to Kateri’s face and an image that was going to be fixed in her memory for a long time to come.

_A good memory to help drive the nightmares away_.

Kateri was quite surprised as present time drew to a close and the stack of neatly wrapped or bagged presents under the tree grew smaller to be told that there were presents for her! _Wasn’t expecting that! Even after Saturday’s revelations. I probably shouldn’t be surprised though._

After nearly hugging the stuffings out of Kateri in thanks for the doggy, Tali brought over her present for her new cousin, which was ensconced within a colorful, Christmassy bag with a large … _I think that’s a reindeer?_ … on one side.

“For me? Thank you,” Kateri said, accepting the bag carefully from Tali’s hands after she warned Kateri to “keep it level.”

Impatient anticipation was clear on Tali’s face, and she was nearly fidgeting as she stepped back to give Kateri room to open the present.

_Kid, watching you is half the fun of this morning_.

There were two items inside the bag. The first was a pretty leather bookmark wrapped carefully in tissue paper. _No more using paper scraps for bookmarks._ The second was a small carved wooden box inside of which were several beautiful feathers Tali had probably found on her outdoor wanderings and a couple of pretty shells. _Ah, the explanation for why I need to keep it level: so nothing gets crushed_.

“Thank you, Tali,” Kateri replied, a soft smile lighting up her face and dark eyes, “I love it.”

There were yet two more presents after that, both from Nelson and Marilou. One was small and thin and felt like a book. _A book?_ The other was square-ish and thick and malleable. Kateri wasn’t sure which to open first out of sheer curiosity, but she finally decided on the second, which when she removed the wrapping paper was revealed to be a long, grey knitted scarf.

_Wonder how she knew I liked grey so much._

_Scratch that, I know how. Clinton told her. I can see it in the look in his eyes_.

The other present, which was a book after all, nearly made Kateri bust her gut laughing. Laughing still hurt, but the pain was worth it for the humor.

The small soft-cover book was _… basically a gardening for dummies book._ From the smirk and the mischief in Nelson’s face, the gift was probably meant as much for a joke/laugh as anything else. _Either someone told him, or he overheard me asking Marilou if I had to keep that plant in my room alive._ Clinton, who had been a willing listener for more than one of Kateri’s mournful grumbling rants about the latest houseplant she had managed to kill— _not like I do it intentionally. I like plants. They’re nice to have around. I just seem to have whatever the opposite of a green thumb is_ —and Jess, who had probably overheard some of those rants, got the joke. _Some of Clinton and mine’s most interesting conversation are our rabbit trailing ones. But then we get to the end and wonder how we got from Point A to Point B._ Tali did not get the joke, however, if the confused look spread across her face was anything to go by.

“You know cactuses are pretty hardy plants, right?” Kateri asked, turning to Tali to explain the joke after she had thanked Nelson and Marilou profusely for the gifts.

_Unless they’re my cactuses_.

Tali nodded hesitantly.

“Well,” Kateri continued, “I have the unfortunate gift of being able to kill cactuses. And thus, it is fortunate for the pretty plant your grandmother has in the guest bedroom that I am not responsible for keeping it alive.”

“Oooohhhhhhh.”

* * *

Christmas afternoon was a quiet affair. Marilou brought down her sewing box and her knitting needles from upstairs and set to work on a couple of things. Tali spent most of the time bouncing between the living room and the dining room ( _how does she have the at much energy??)_ , alternately pouring over and ooing-and-ahhing over her new presents or working on putting together one of the giant animal puzzles her grandparents had given her. Kateri returned to her book, periodically stopping to wander into the dining room to check on Tali’s progress and help her with the occasional piece.

The men returned to trying to pummel each other at chess, and today was not Jess’ day. He lost the first match to Clinton in 45 minutes, and then Nelson beat him within half-an-hour. The match between father and son, however, turned into a nearly hour-and-a-half monstrosity that somehow Clinton eked out into a draw. By the end Kateri had set aside her book and was watching with rapt attention and wide eyes. _I have no clue what’s going on, but I can’t wait to see who wins_.

Finally, the matches were complete, and Clinton declared the winner. Jess and Clinton stepped out into the kitchen to refill their mugs, and Nelson began resetting the chess board, and Kateri returned to her book, scanning a page trying to remember where she had left off a while earlier.

“Do you want to play?” Nelson’s voice broke through her thoughts a few moments later before she could even find her place.

_Who me?_

Kateri looked up, and yes, Nelson was looking at her, not Tali, who had left her puzzle for the moment and returned to the couch where she was curled up beside Kateri.

_I don’t know how to play._

“I don’t know how to play,” Kateri replied.

_Two variety of checkers, yes._

_Few card games, yes._

_Couple other games, yes._

_Chess, no_.

“Do you want to learn?”

Kateri blinked, “Sure. Why not? Looks fun.”

* * *

[1] Mohawk. Merry Christmas. [https://www.firstvoices.com/explore/FV/sections/Data/Kanehsat%C3%A0:ke/Mohawk/Kanien'k%C3%A9ha%20(Mohawk)%20[Eng]/learn/phrases/22b0a2db-84f1-445c-a148-e98f9e143b87](https://www.firstvoices.com/explore/FV/sections/Data/Kanehsat%C3%A0:ke/Mohawk/Kanien'k%C3%A9ha%20\(Mohawk\)%20%5bEng%5d/learn/phrases/22b0a2db-84f1-445c-a148-e98f9e143b87).

[2] [www.stuffedark.com/images/dalmatiannj.jpg](http://www.stuffedark.com/images/dalmatiannj.jpg)


	5. The Second Case Without Her (Ghosts)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N #1: I saw a video the other day on Youtube of Nathaniel Arcand playing guitar, and now I have yet more plot 🐰 bunnies!
> 
> A/N #2: This chapter takes place about 2-3 weeks after the last chapter.
> 
> A/N #3: I may have gone a wee bit overboard with my researching and my footnotes for this chapter, but there is so much rich culture to read about with the Mohawk people

New Year’s Eve arrived, and then 2019 passed away, leaving 2020 in its place. 2019 had been an interesting year with both ups and downs. Yes, Kateri had gained her long-hoped-for relationship with Clinton and gained herself a second family at the same time, changes that she was relishing— _and it only took nearly dying_ —but she had nearly died and, a month later, was still healing, and case-wise … _lost track of our exact number of cases this year …_ there had been ups and downs and more than a few unpleasant incidents … _after January, I will never look at cold showers the same way ever again **[1]** …_ and reminders of past things Kateri would have rather remained in the past … _Cortez, for bloody example_.[2]

But 2019 was over now, and 2020 was upon them, and Kateri could not say she was unhappy for the switch.

However, the switch also meant that the slump of case-work over the holidays passed … _even the other team got a break, too, for a while … does happen from time to time …_ , meaning that it was time to go back to work … for everyone but Kateri. _I miss work. I don’t miss the necessity of work, but I miss work_.

If people stopped breaking the law and there were no more fugitives to catch, Kateri would be quite happy to be put out of work, but it was the other parts of missions that she missed … _the camaraderie, the family aspects, the teasing, the long talks, et al._ She missed the normalcy of work. _I’m a creature of habit_.

* * *

On January 5, a Sunday morning, the adults including Kateri were eating breakfast when Tali, who had finished eating first and had been allowed to run off to go do … something else … trotted back up the steps into the dining room.

_How that girl has so much energy amazes me!_

“Diversity Day’s tomorrow, and I need to bring something about my culture,” Tali declared, stopping between her grandparents’ chairs, as all turned to look at her.

 _At school, I’m guessing?_ Kateri mused looking up from her plate of eggs and bacon. _An interesting idea._

_Me thinks starting to look at little earlier might have been a better idea, kiddo._

_About your culture …. Good grief, that’s unhelpfully vague and terribly broad_.

“Something about your culture,” Jess mused, his chin resting on one closed fist.

_Well, I suppose you could start by telling them the proper name for our people is Kanien'kehá:ka, not Mohawk._

_Start by giving that lecture to yourself, Kateri. You’ve fallen into the habit of calling yourself Mohawk._ Trying to hold on to the culture of her parents and her childhood while not slipping into an outsider’s way of thinking … _referring to yourself_ … was a complicated endeavor in many ways.

“I have to share about our people,” Tali explained before turning to her grandfather, “Uh, Grandpa, what do you think I should bring?”

All eyes shifted to Nelson. _This should be interesting_. Kateri could see a spark of mischief building deep within the older man’s eyes. After about a month at the Skyes’ home, Kateri had come to realize that her almost-grandfather … unofficially adopted or not, there was something internally, something mental that kept holding Kateri back from actually calling them by those familial titles so far … had a fondness for harmless mischief that could tease … and occasionally even teach … without causing hurt feelings or angst.

“Hmmm, well, do you want to use my headdress or my tomahawk?” Nelson replied, his words completely deadpan at the beginning before the pitch of his voice rose slightly at the end and mischief entered his face.

Kateri snickered, hiding a smirk behind her tea mug.

 _Yet more proof of where Rakeni got his deadpan, one-liners sense of humor from_.

“You have a tomahawk?” Tali asked, her voice rising in pitch at the end as her eyes widened in utter surprise. An excited smile swept across her face.

“Oh, yeaaa,” her grandfather replied, holding his hands about a foot-and-a-half apart to illustrate the size of the thing.

That got Nelson thwacked by his wife. “Don’t make jokes!” Marilou protested, half-seriously, it seemed, and half-in-jest, “She’s being serious. … Hmm, can it be food?”

Tali shook her head, “No, not food."

_Not surprising. Too complicated and too risky._

_Would have been convenient if allowed, though._

_Always the risk of food allergies, too._

_A food safety hazard and a lawsuit waiting to happen_.

“Let’s look around,” Jess replied, rising from his seat. He’d already finished eating and had just been sitting with the others as they finished as he sipped his tea, “I’m sure we can find something.”

His phone began to buzz seconds later. _So much for that idea, boss_. Kateri recognized the look on Jess’ face immediately. _The team has a case_. Though she knew the situation wouldn’t last forever, it still seemed so strange and foreign to say “the team has a case” and not have herself included in that. _Stuck on the sidelines until I heal._

“It’s okay,” Tali replied. She was unfortunately used to cases calling her father away at inconvenient times. Everyone in a family made sacrifices when one family member had a job in law-enforcement or something similar.

Jess left within ten minutes, and it still felt strange to Kateri to see him leave and not be going with him. _I wonder what the case is this time._ After quickly finishing the rest of her food, Kateri helped Marilou clean up after breakfast and get the dishwasher loaded … _no one wants to come back to a sink full of dishes, especially if there’s cooking to be done before dinner_ , and then it was time to help Tali find something for Diversity Day at school. Waiting until the last minute to find something was one defense against further procrastination. _No more time left to wait and chew through. Got to get it done now or not at all._

Musing internally on the idea of Diversity Day and the importance of such a thing at schools, Kateri followed Marilou out of the kitchen back into the living room where Tali was waiting.

_Not heard of it before, but it’s a good idea._

_A lot of peoples make up the United States, a lot of histories, a lot of languages, and a whole lot of fascinating stories and cultures._

_So much rich culture exists from before the Europeans came._

_Even just for our people, it’s been over four-hundred years I think it is since the Moh … Kanien'kehá:ka first encountered the Dutch in what’s now New York_. Or, at least, that was what Kateri remembered from what books about her people she could get her hands on and absorb once she became an older teen and then once she also got to college.

_Before that point, before I was able to go back to the Reservation, I was just hanging on to what I could remember by my fingertips._

Assimilation … it didn’t just even take the Residential Schools.[3]

 _Just dump a First Nation kid in white foster care and see what happens. Hard to hold onto your own culture when you’re it and everyone around you is different_.

 _Talk about a different kind of assimilation._ _No one’s holding a whip over your head, but it’s still sink or swim in a lot of ways._

It still amazed Kateri somehow that she had managed to even hold onto Mohawk as well as she had, that she had even been able to have conversations with Clinton as rough as they were in those early days. _I go back when I can, but my money was tight for a long time. Only so many times I could go home once I got out from foster care_.

“What do _I_ think you should bring?” Kateri repeated a minute later when Tali asked her the same question the girl had posed at the table. The three women had stopped in the living room to plan the search before they actually started searching. “Uh, let me think.”

 _Bloody h**l, that’s a little complicated. Let me think_.

“You need to bring something tangible to show? You don’t just need to talk, right?”

Tali nodded.

_Okay. Hmmmmmm._

“Well,” Kateri replied slowly after thinking for a couple of minutes. She stepped back to lean against the wall by the dining room steps, “I can think of a couple of ideas off the top of my head, but it would all depend on what’s here in the house. I’ve also got a thing or two at my place you could borrow, but I’d need a ride … since I’m still not allowed to drive.” There was a twist of annoyance in her face at that last statement.

“Nelson or I can give you a ride if we need to,” Marilou added.

“Thanks,” Kateri replied, shooting her almost-grandmother a smile, “so this is just me spitballing,”— _which is a very strange phrase, and how the h**l did that get into your vocabulary?_ —“so feel free to take or leave my ideas.” Kateri paused for a moment, her eyes going distant as if she were dredging up or recalling some long-distant memory, “Well, one thing I remember clearly … reasonably clearly … about my father was that he played the water drum, which is more distinctive of, though not exclusive to, the Iroquois. … I think his father taught him, but my memory’s too fuzzy that far back … But anyway,” she gave herself a little shake, trying to get herself back on truck, “I always remember that the water drums made different sounds different than the drums I’d hear off the Reservation.”

_It was a very distinctive type of sound._

_Rakeni **[4]** was pretty good at it as best as I recall._

_Though everything’s a bit fuzzy that far back._

Tali’s eyes lit up, “That’s cool! I’m not sure I’ve ever heard one, though.”

“Yea, it was. Unfortunately, I don’t have it anymore. My parents’ things were put into storage after they died, and his drum was one of the things that got lost by the wayside.”

 _Actually, most of their things got lost by the time I got old enough to actually claim it_.

_Maybe the money to pay the storage place ran out, or things got moved around or maybe there were debts, and stuff got sold … who the h**l knows … I never really figured it out._

_Ah, well. No use lamenting what can’t be undone._

“I’m sorry, dear,” said Marilou with a commiserating smile and a touch to Kateri’s shoulder.

_Come to think of it, most of what I have left I either had with me in foster care or was in the safety deposit box …_

“It’s okay,” Kateri shot her a thankful smile, tinged with a hint of nostalgic sadness, “I don’t remember their faces well, but I have some other things of theirs to help me remember them by … which leads me to my two other idea. The Kanien'kehá:ka are well-known for their beadwork[5] and their quillwork.[6] At my place, I have a quillbox and a beaded necklace that belonged to my mother and a beaded leather knife sheath that was my father’s.”

_Those ideas would probably be the more popular with the children._

_Quillwork is especially fascinating because it’s so bloody hard to do._

“We have some examples of that here also,” confirmed Marilou.

Tali nodded enthusiastically, “I have a beaded bracelet that was Mom’s. It’s really pretty.”

“If you wanted to talk about something more on the religious side, you could take a small figure of the Lily of the Mohawks,”[7] Kateri finished, stating the other idea that had come to mind quickly, “I have one at home. Might not work as well with kids your age, but those are my ideas for what they’re worth.”

 _She always comes to mind … considering my name_.

The Lily of the Mohawks—Saint Kateri Tekakwitha—was a Mohawk woman who lived on the Kahnawake reserve in the latter half of the 17th century. After converting to Catholicism at the age of 19, she was baptized by a Jesuit priest and given a new name ‘Catherine,’ of which ‘Kateri’ was the Mohawk form. Kateri Tekakwitha had been canonized by the Catholic Church a little over seven years previously. Considering the Residential Schools and all the long-lasting, horrific societal and familial implications of that assimilation project, however, Catholicism could be a touchy subject in some circles, at times.

“Are you named for her?” Asked Tali curiously.

Kateri nodded, “Yes. My parents were devout Catholics.”

 _It was also a Native American name that also was something that wasn’t so native that half the people in a non-Native school couldn’t pronounce it and would probably bully me for it_.

_Kids, if one thing isn’t worth bullying you over, they can always find something else._

_Kids can be surprisingly cruel._

* * *

A suitable thing to take to Diversity Day was eventually discovered, and Diversity Day came and went. Tali returned from school that day with stories about how much the other children had liked what she had brought—her parent’s wedding baskets,[8] _another fascinating piece of our culture_ —and about all the other cool, amazing things she had seen.

_Apparently, her school is quite diverse from all she’s telling. That’s good._

_Our people didn’t and don’t exist in a vacuum, and North America wouldn’t be what it is without all the cultures that have shaped what we see and hear today_.

It was Monday evening after dinner before Kateri first got an update on the case and information on who the fugitive was. (Her teammates were doing their best to keep her in the loop, even while she was on injury leave, whether that involved case info, questions, or even … complaining about paperwork.) Hearing about this case and reading through the several extremely long texts worth of information made Kateri’s stomach lurch and made her wish all the more that she was there with the team.

 _Bloody, bloody h**l, and God have mercy_.

Some cases hit closer to home than others for the different members of the team, and this one was personal for Clinton and for Kateri and, perhaps, even Jess, though somewhat differently.

 _Bloody, bloody h**l_.

The fugitive was a man named Reginald Waters.

And he was Mohawk—Kanien'kehá:ka—though from a different reserve.

 _Ahkwesásne, not Kahnawàke_.

_Not that far away in the scheme of things._

Everything about the case raised a minefield of cultural and historical issues, a minefield that only grew larger as the week passed and more information became available about the case, the fugitive, and what the h**l had happened to bring him to the point of … _shooting someone point-blank with a shotgun and fleeing_.

What was driving Reginald Waters to such extreme acts? The search for his missing daughter, Audrey Waters, and the utterly incompetent, lackadaisical search by the local police department.

_The police who were responsible for investigating Audrey Water’s disappearance should have been and should be fired!_

_A 10-page report after a sixth-month investigation. That’s worse than incompetence. That’s neglect._

_So many leads ignored._

_I doubt the poor girl will ever be found alive, but if those bloody cops had done their job …_

_Maybe … it could have been different._

_Missing women and girls on the reservations … it’s an epidemic. **[9]** Is anything done? Noooooo_.

_It’s all a bloody, complicated mess compound by bloody, complicated, ridiculous laws, policies, and areas of jurisdiction._

_A bloody, bloody mess_.

Father and daughter had had a complicated relationship, compounded by yet another minefield … the lasting, multi-generational traumatic impact of the Residential Schools upon family relationships and bonds.

_Makes it too easy for bloody useless, racist cops to blame things on family problems and say kid ran way … when perhaps, actually, it’s actually a kidnapping._

Just thinking about the Residential Schools made Kateri shudder again. Being raised largely off the reservation, thanks to her parents’ untimely death, had largely distanced her from such minefields until she had grown up enough to start pouring herself into learning all she could about the culture she had been separated from as a child.

Kateri always wondered though … _what about my family? Were they affected?_

_I was too young to learn about such matters back when my parents were alive to tell me about such matters._

The week passed quietly at home. Tali continued her daily evening visits to Kateri’s bedroom, and the topics of conversation varied, as usual, from the mundane to the serious. Marilou taught her how to make bread by hand— _I watch the hard parts, still now allowed to do such things as kneading myself_ —during one of Kateri’s afternoons helping her in the kitchen. In the evenings, Kateri and Nelson often played a game or two of chess. A quick mind, passing skill at other strategy games, and years of undercover experience aided her, and Kateri picked up the game relatively quickly.

 _By which, I mean two weeks-ish have passed, and I finally ‘m not losing within ten minutes or less anymore_.

Kateri could really care less about winning or losing, though. Nelson’s offer to teach her chess meant a lot, and just sitting with him and talking about this and that, getting his viewpoints on different issues, influenced by decades more experience than Kateri herself had, was as much a draw as actually learning to play the game. _Not to say that playing isn’t fun_.

* * *

One afternoon mid-week, Kateri was helping Marilou in the kitchen with supper. Tali had arrived home from school about an hour before and had disappeared off upstairs with her snack to go work on her homework. Kateri liked cooking and was glad to provide her almost-grandmother with an extra pair of hands. She found it soothing in a way and a good distraction.

_I can focus on nothing but following step after step, and it’s a good way to be creative._

_I’ve got thus and such in the fridge and cupboard. What can I make that actually tastes good … even if it does occasionally look … odd?_

The cooking was making enough new dirty dishes, pans, and utensils that Kateri had switched to washing several things quickly that would be needed later in the cooking process. _Hate it when that happens. Necessary evil for good food for dinner._ Washing dishes was a mindless task Kateri had done over and over and over again for years— _haven’t had dishwashers in all of my rented places_ —and one she could do almost on autopilot. As she shifted around Marilou to get to the sink, Kateri unthinkingly tugged the sleeves of her long-sleeve shirt up her arms to keep her sleeves from getting soaked while she washed dishes.

What she had done mindlessly only occurred to her a moment later when Marilou gasped.

_The scars!_

_Oh, bloody h**l_.

The deep, rope burn scars from Kateri attempts to free herself during her kidnapping two years before encircled both wrists fully. The scars had long healed over and didn’t hurt anymore. As long as something else about the scars weren’t triggering her— _like the blood when I was trying to help Nate_ —Kateri had grown used to them and didn’t much think about them either. _They’re a sign that I bloody did my best to save myself, and they’re a mark I bloody survived_. To anyone who hadn’t seen the scars before, however, the sight was usually quite … jarring.

_No one has ligature-mark-like scars for funsies._

_Thus, why I usually wear long-sleeves … unless the weather’s really bad and hot_.

Kateri looked over. Marilou’s eyes had gone wide with horror, and she had pressed one hand to her mouth.

 _Bloody h**l_.

_Glad Tali’s upstairs._

_Jess would bloody kill me if I had to explain these scars to her._

“Sorry,” Kateri said, her gaze dropping, as she plunged her hands into the sink-full of soapy water so that the scars weren’t visible anymore, “Got going and forgot. I didn’t mean to upset you. Just don’t think about them much anymore.”

“No, no, it’s alright. You didn’t do anything wrong,” Marilou hastened to explain, visibly pulling herself together, “I was just surprised.”

 _Says or thinks everyone most every time_.

Kateri gave a half-shrug, her gaze focused on the soapy water as she started to scrub a small pan. “My sleeves usually cover them,” her voice was soft, “I just … needed my sleeves out of the way.”

“To wash dishes. I understand, dear,” Marilou said with a small smile, as she turned back to what she was doing, “Nelson and I hear about your missions from time to time, and we heard about that mission two years ago. I just wasn’t expecting …”

_Them to be so bad?_

_Look better now than they did originally, I’m sure._

“They're just scars now. I’ve gotten used to them by now, but … it was hard in the beginning. I just told myself … still tell myself occasionally … that they’re signs I survived, signs that I fought back.”

 _Better keep an ear out. Don’t want to be having this conversation in Tali’s hearing_.

_She’s mature for her age, but still …_

_This isn’t something an 11-year-old needs to worry about or think about_.

“You do a dangerous job. I’m always so thankful when Clinton and Jess and all of you make it back home safely. I don’t take it for granted … anymore …” There was a deep note of sadness in Marilou’s voice. _After Angelyne, God rest her soul_.

The death of a child wasn’t something that healed quickly or you ever forgot. _Leaves a hole that can never be filled._

_Parents aren’t supposed to be bury their children._

Kateri finished washing one pan and set in the drying rack to air dry until she could come back and dry it with a towel in a few minutes. “We’re a good team,” she finally said slowly, “We watch each other’s backs, and we rarely don’t have backup of one form or another. We’ve got as good a chance of coming home as most other LEOs, a good as chance as can be hoped for in our line of work.”

Marilou made a hum of ascent, but then it hit Kateri what she had said a minute before. “Jess and Clinton telling stories?”

 _Most things I wouldn’t expect them to be talking about_.

_I know they tell somethings … Rakeni’s said as much, but … wouldn’t expect the gory details part … enough to hear about my scars._

“Sometimes,” the older woman replied, continuing to work even as the two talked, “Usually the stories are just light things: the interesting things or places they see, the jokes between you all, funny things that happen, but … sometimes … after the bad cases they need to talk, too, sometimes to each other, sometimes to us. They don’t share anything private, though.”

_Who helps the helper?_

“Yeaaaaa,” Kateri’s voice was quiet.

 _Someone better than the shrinks, I hope_.

Marilou had left the pan she had been stirring on the stove and returned to her chopping, but now she stopped, the thunk, thunk, thunk of her knife ceasing. Her voice was quiet when she continued. “Clinton always tries to be the strong one for us … especially after Angelyne. In public, he’s always the rock,”— _yep_ —“but,” she paused again, obviously picking her words carefully, “sometimes even the strongest break,”— _some of those phone conversations after Angelyne died. Him losing it while I was missing_ —“After you were injured two years ago, he was really … shaken. I don’t think I’d seen him that shaken since his sister died, and then … it was worse after …”

_I nearly kicked the bucket?_

_Nearly died in his arms?_

_Yea, I can imagine … that look in his eyes … in the warehouse, the hospital, when we talked_.

Kateri swallowed hard and opened her mouth to respond but found the words dying in her head. Tears had sprung into her eyes, and she craned her neck to dry each cheek in turn on her shoulder.

“I think,” Marilou finally continued, “That was the first time I saw a hint of how much he loves you,”— _oh? Been wondering how long you’d known_ —“Mothers see these things. Tali’s always loved animals, especially birds, and I remember once … she was about 6 … not long before Angelyne was deployed for the last time, Tali wandered away into the woods behind the house, and it took us almost two hours to find her.”

“Bloody h**l,” Kateri murmured and then winced at forgetting her own rule of not swearing in English in the house where Tali might hear.

“Clinton and Angelyne, they were good kids, but they got into scrapes when they were children, got hurt,” Marilou continued, stepping back to the stove to pour more chopped vegetables into the pan, “I know what it’s like as a parent to fear for your child, the pain of seeing them in pain themselves and not always being able to help them. I saw that fear in all of us when Tali was lost, and I saw it in my son in the aftermath of your … kidnapping.”

Kateri swallowed hard again. Events like those affected everyone. She cocked her head, listening for the creaks in the floor above, checking that Tali wasn’t within hearing distance. “That mission was … bad, and I struggled for a long time after it. It’s because of that … that I have PTSD. I almost unraveled at some points, but Clinton and Kenny helped me … keep it together. It would have been really hard without them.”

“I’m glad Clinton has you to look out for him, and you have him to look out for you.”

“Me, too,” Kateri said softly.

 _Me, bloody, too_.

* * *

As Tali had once explained to Kateri in detail at one of their evening chats, Friday nights were special. (1) She got to stay up late— _I guess you would see 10pm as late. For us, some days, the night hasn’t even begun_ —since there was no school Tali had to get up to the next day. (2) She got to watch TV even if she hadn’t finished her homework. _That’s only special if there’s something worth watching_. (3) The weekend had finally arrived with all the things that made weekends awesome. _Well, that I can get on board with_.

One other interesting thing about this Friday night in particular—January 10th—was that there was a full moon— _the wolf moon tonight_ —and, _if you’re about anywhere but North American_ , a lunar eclipse.[10] Kateri had enjoyed being out at the farm and being able to see the stars more … _unlike in the Bronx where you can’t see much of anything over the city lights_. As Clinton had noted once, light pollution was better out at the farm, _though not the same as at the Reservation_.

About 8:30pm, Kateri was sitting in the rocking chair by the couch reading a book she had pulled almost at random off one of the living room shelves when soft footsteps padded down the stairs and Tali appeared, still dressed in her day clothes, wrapped in a blanket.

Kateri looked up and blinked, flummoxed as to why her cousin was wrapped in a blanket. _Are you cold? Are you sick?_

Tali looked first to her grandfather, “May I go outside and watch the stars for a while?”

 _That explains the blanket, at least._ It was warm for January— _low 50s, I think_ —but still on the chilly side if you were just going to sit or lie on the grass and stargaze for a bit.

The look of utter shock that passed across Nelson’s face was fleeting but was one Kateri caught. Marilou, who was sitting next to her husband while she worked on mending a seam in a pair of Tali’s pants, looked just as shocked.

_Okay, what the h**l am I missing?_

_There’re almost tears in her eyes_.

“Of course, you can, dear,” Marilou responded after a moment of shocked silence, “Just don’t go too far.”

“Yes, Grandma,” Tali then turned to Kateri, “Want to come with me?”

There was something about Nelson and Marilou’s response and something about the way Tali asked the question that made Kateri sense there was something important about the offer, some background she just didn’t get.

“Sure,” Kateri replied, getting to her feet and refiling the book on its shelf, “Let me grab my jacket.”

Kateri’s leather jacket was hanging on a peg behind the front door, and enough weeks had passed since her near-fatal shooting, that she could actually get her own jacket on without help— _it’s about bloody time_ —and without feeling like someone was stabbing her in the chest with her own Ka-Bar knife.[11] Even when breathing, the pain had mostly faded. _Healing takes patience, and a bloody lot of it_.

Once the two were out onto the porch, Tali grabbed one of Kateri’s hand and started gently pulling her in the direction of the barn or, rather, Kateri allowed herself to be pulled in the direction of the barn. Just past the barn, next to what looked like an old firepit that hadn’t been used in a long time, Tali spread out her blanket and plopped down on her back. Progress or not, Kateri didn’t feel like pressing her luck by lying down even on a slope— _my luck, I’d stiffen up and not be able to sleep a wink tonight_ —so she simply sat down carefully next to Tali and tipped her head back.

There was not no light pollution even out in Glen Cove, but it was certainly better than in the Bronx. The full moon, so bright that Kateri didn’t need a flashlight to navigate the yard even with the porch lights turned out, was the most eye-catching thing in the sky, but many stars were visible, too. After a few minutes of starring and orienting herself, Kateri was able to start picking out the few constellations she could recognize without a book or a star-map in hand.

_Used to do this with Rakeni a long time ago._

_Always liked looking through the telescope._

_Could see the man on the moon._

_Saturn’s rings were always my favorite, though_.

The two sat in silence for a while, each starring at the stars, lost in their own thoughts, before Tali started to point out some of the visible constellations, some of which Kateri recognized, others which she did not.

“And wayyyyyy up there is the Big Dipper, and then down there, just over the trees, near Orion—he’s a hunter—that’s the Pleiades,” Tali seemed to be finding great enjoyment in pointing out the constellations, and her excitement made Kateri smile.

 _Very cool_.

“The Monster Bear[12] and the Tsá:Ta Nihá:Ti Tehatinonniáhkhwa.”

 _The seven dancers, according to the old stories_.

 _Very good pronunciation, self. That’s a mouthful of a phrase_.

“You know the stories? Which one’s your favorite?” Tali asked, “I like both of them, but I think my favoritest old story is the one about Golden Eagle.[13] It’s sad, but still really cool. Raptors are really awesome.”

_Surprised someone told you yet about the Great Bear._

_Too much death in that story for a child too young._

_Probably … whoever told it to you toned down a bit_.

“Which one is my favorite? Of those stories about the stars, I like the Seven Dancers,[14] best, but I think my favorite is the Iroquois story about the child who lived with the bear-people.[15] It’s very sad, but it has a happy ending.”

 _And reminds me of my life in a lot of ways_.

_Too many ways._

_Always makes me cry, but I like it anyway._

Tali hmmmed and scooted a little closer to Kateri, “I don’t think I know about that story. Did your father tell you the stories? We all …,” her voice dropped, “We used to sit out here some nights … before Mama died to watch the stars. Sometimes Grandpa would tell the old stories, and Uncle Clinton and Mama would play, and we’d make s’mores.”

_That explains the fire pit … and their surprise._

_Play? Play what?_

_Note to Self: Ask Nelson or Marilou later … before asking Rakeni._

Kateri was silent for a minute, choosing her words carefully now that Angelyne had been brought into the picture, not wanting to say something that would upset her new little cousin. “That sounds like fun, and no, I read them online. There are some good sights online with some of the old stories of our people. Some stories are even in Mohawk, too. It helps me practice.”

“They’d be better if Grandpa told them to you. They’re always better when Grandpa tells them. He tells reallllyyyyyy good stories.”

 _I’m sure he does_.

 _You don’t know how lucky … how blessed you are, kiddo, to … grow up with all your family_.

It was a while before Kateri could force a reply out of her throat, “That sounds really nice, kiddo.”

A small hand slipped over her arm, and Tali sat up and scooted closer. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Kat.”

_Another change now that I’m adopted: no more miss._

“It’s alright, kid,” Kateri gave a sad half-smile that was hidden in the darkness, “Just feeling a bit nostalgic tonight. I used to watch the stars with my parents back when I was younger than you were, and sometimes … I just miss them more than others.”

_Miss what could have been._

_But I wonder … if I would have met all of you if they had lived?_

_Wish I could have both. Ista and Rakeni and you all._

_Life isn’t like that._

_You can’t have it all._

_Had them as long as possible._

_Now I have you all_.

A head came to rest on Kateri’s shoulder, and Kateri pressed a kiss to Tali’s hair.

 _You’re a good kid_.

“Were your parents soldiers like Mom was?” Tali finally asked.

“No, not that I recall. They died in a car crash when I was eight.”

 _And that day I’ll remember for the rest of my life, I think_.

“I’m sorry,” Tali sighed sadly, “I miss Mom a lot … some days more than others.”

_Sometimes I think I miss the idea of Ista and Rakeni as much as I miss them …_

_Now that my memories of them have faded._

_I still remember them … somewhat … it’s just more … flashes, usually, and tidbits, random things that I don’t always remember why I remember_.

“I only met your mother a couple of times, but I’ve heard a lot about her from your uncle, mostly, and I know she loved you very much.”

Silence fell again for a while.

Then, finally Tali said, “And you’ve got us now to help you not be sad.”

 _You’re a good kid_.

There was a lump in Kateri’s throat, so all she did was press another kiss to Tali’s hair.

Eventually, Marilou’s voice called from the backdoor, and glancing down at her watch, Kateri squinted in the moon light and was finally able to read her watch face enough to see that almost an hour had passed since they came outside, and it was getting towards Tali’s bedtime. The two went back inside. Only Marilou was waiting in the living room for them as they entered, but Nelson reappeared from the kitchen as the two were hanging up their coats.

“She hasn’t done that since Angelyne died,” Marilou said, tears in her eyes, when the thump-squeak of Tali’s feet on the stairs had faded away.

“My father had a telescope before we moved to New York. He’d take me out some times to look at the stars, too,” Kateri replied with a soft half-nostalgic, half-sad smile, “I was glad to go out with her.”

 _Stars were always better back on the Reservation_.

“Angelyne’s death … and what happened afterward was really hard on Tali,” Nelson continued. He paused, his face twisting momentarily with grief, “On all of us.”

_With Jess going into a tailspin?_

_Really shook Clinton up_.

 _That was a hard several months_.

“I remember,” Kateri’s voice was soft, “Tali was telling me about your old routine some nights, and she mentioned something about Clinton and Angelyne playing …”

“Guitar. They both could play,” Marilou replied, a soft, sad smile sweeping over her face for a moment, “He still has his. I’ve seen it at his apartment, but I haven’t heard Clinton play since his sister died. That was something he and Angelyne used to do together.”

_Wow! I did not know that._

_Never heard Rakeni mentioned that, talk about that before._

_And he’s listened to several of my music rants_.

“I hear stories about her periodically … usually around the anniversary of her death,” Kateri said, “But I never heard that story, never knew he could play. Maybe I’ll ask him about it one of these days … unless I’d be putting my foot in it by asking?”

Nelson shook his head, “I think he might like that. It’s been three years. We can’t avoid forever doing all the things that we used to do with Angelyne, like with Jess and Tali and the orienteering competition.”

“You do them, and you remember those you’ve lost, and you keep on going,” Kateri murmured.

That was a lesson she sometimes had to tell herself.

_I don’t think Angelyne would want it otherwise._

* * *

At a standoff in Canada at the abandoned site of one of the residential schools, Clinton was able to use his shared heritage and knowledge to help talk down Reginald Waters and prevent him from committing suicide or suicide by cops. With Waters in custody, the case came to a close, and the team returned home. No one else was dead. No one else was hurt. For a messed-up case like that one— _I pity Waters. The police who screwed the pooch on his kid’s case need to be dealt with or locked up, but that was the wrong way to fix things_ —that was about as good an outcome as could be hoped for.

It was early in the afternoon on Saturday the 11th when Clinton and Jess returned home. Kateri could tell it had been a hard case just by looking at them, though those signs disappeared as soon as Tali appeared hurtling down the stairs at breakneck pace and slipping and sliding on the wood floor in her sock-feet as she went in for a hug.

And if Clinton’s arm around her shoulders was just a little tighter than usual when Kateri greeted her partner-father and the boss, well, she knew why and just hugged him back tightly also.

_This case has too many similar moments to my own life._

_I got lucky … was blessed. A lot of moments in my life could’ve turned out a lot differently_.

With a little arm-twisting from Tali— _not that it really took much, Clinton only did as much as he did to tease her_ —Clinton was convinced to stay for dinner, and the rest of the afternoon passed quietly. Tali bounced back and forth between upstairs and downstairs, doing this and that. _What this and that are, I’ve got no idea, she’s moving so fast_. _I wish kids could share some of that energy. We old people could use some_.

Kateri, Clinton, and Jess settled down in the living room, and the two caught her up briefly on a few important facts of the case that hadn’t gotten to her already, since _sometimes old cases can reappear unexpectedly and types of clues/methods from past cases can be useful on later cases_. That brief, low-voiced conversation immediately ceased anytime Tali came back within hearing range. _Somethings kiddoes don’t need to hear_.

Much later in the afternoon, Clinton, Jess, and Kateri were still sitting in the living room, reading now. Nelson and Marilou were starting to work on dinner, and Kateri’s offer of help had been kindly but summarily declined, so she had been shooed off to the living room to sit and read with the others. Tali was still bouncing back and forth between upstairs and downstairs.

On one trip down, Tali had something in her hands as she bounced back into the kitchen. A couple of minutes later, Marilou’s voice saying something about ‘father’ drifted out. Kateri glanced up for a moment when the voices became more noticeable, checking to see if she were needed— _which I’m not_ —and then returned her attention to her book a minute later.

Jess, however, closed his book and peered over the top of his glasses in that direction. “I heard ‘father,’” he called, “Am I needed?”

Tali reappeared from the kitchen, and what she was carrying in her hands were revealed to be two small, woven baskets—her parent’s wedding baskets that she had taken to Diversity Day back on Monday. “I took these to Diversity Day,” she replied, setting the baskets down on the coffee table and sitting down in the rocking chair catty-cornered to Jess’ seat on the couch, “and everybody loved them, and I was wondering if I could keep them in my room.”

“Those are our wedding baskets. You took them to school?” Jess asked, a hint of something between shock and surprise in his voice.

 _Oh, bloody h**l. You didn’t know, boss?! I’m guessing Nelson and Marilou didn’t either, then_.

 _Kid!!! I thought you had already talked to them when you asked me for helping packing them so they wouldn’t get hurt in your backpack while you were on the bus_.

“You should have asked me first,” Jess finished, a hint of disappointment and displeasure clear in his voice.

Kateri fixed her attention on the book in her lap, wishing that she were anywhere but there. Tali probably wouldn’t like a larger audience to what was probably a forthcoming scolding, and Kateri would have preferred being elsewhere also. In her peripheral vision, she saw Marilou appear in the doorway of the dining room.

“Well, sorry,” Tali protested, “but I got an A for my presentation,”— _deflecting_ —“and Uncle Clinton told me all about them.” _Relevance? And throwing your Uncle under the bus isn’t nice._

“What’d I do?” Clinton replied, looking up from his book when Jess turned to look at him.

_One way of dealing with that…_

“Sooo,” Tali leaned forward toward her father, elbows on her knees, a note of coaxing in her voice, “can you tell me more about them?”

 _I’d be interested in hearing, too_.

Jess sighed, snorted, and then set his book aside at an encouraging look from Marilou. He leaned forward and pulled the baskets gently closer. “Your mother,”— _God rest her soul_ —“carried one that was filled with cloth, and I carried the one with a little cake inside, and then we exchanged them,” He explained with accompanying hand gestures and movements of the baskets.

“The cloth meant housekeeping.” Tali stated.

“Housemaking,” Jess corrected with a laugh, “Not cleaning.”

_Angelyne wasn’t the type from the stories I’ve heard._

_Wasn’t your typical housewife by any stretch of the imagination._

_Not that that’s a bad thing._

_All women aren’t suited to be stay-at-home, housewives._

“And the cake meant cooking,” Tali finished.

“Yea,” Jess replied quietly.

Marilou had stepped up beside Nelson who had also appeared from the kitchen, and both were standing by the steps that led into the dining room. “The exchange is a promise,” Tali’s grandmother explained with a smile up at her own husband and a pat on his stomach, “she makes the home, and he provides the food.”

“The woman keeps a warm house,” Nelson continued, “And the man hunts, but Jess doesn’t hunt,”— _not animals, at least. Well, not the usual kind of animals_ —“and Angelyne …” His voice trailed off sadly.

“And Angelyne wasn’t made for staying home,” Jess finished.

_Yeaaa._

The buzzing of Clinton’s cellphone suddenly broke through the somber mood in the room. Clinton rose from his seat, threaded his way through the crowd of people and furniture, and stepped out into the hallway to take the call.

“Soooo, can I put my stuff in them?” Asked Tali.

“Sure,” Jess replied with a half-smile and a nod.

“Yesss!” Tali collected the baskets gently, “Thanks, Dad.”

Tali disappeared back upstairs … again, and a minute later Clinton returned to the living room, pocketing his cellphone. His face was grave, and Kateri put her book away with an instinctive rush of concern as her partner-father took the seat Tali had just vacated.

_Okay, what the h**l happened?_

“They got a hit off Audrey Waters’ DNA,” Clinton said, voice somber, “Her remains were found three months ago outside New London, Connecticut,”— _oh, bloody h**l. I was hoping somehow … it would turn out better. Knew there was a snowball’s chance in h**l, but_ —“The good news is that she was processed as a homicide. They found unknown DNA under her fingernails, probably her assailant.”

_All this time Waters was looking lately, his daughter’s been dead._

_If those fools had just put her DNA in the system, that other man’s death could have been avoided_

“She went out fighting,” Jess finished.

“Good for her,” growled Kateri, “I hope he’s got permanent scars.”

_Poor kid._

_No one deserves for it to end that way_.

Jess turned to look at her for a moment and nodded, “Now we can fight for her.”

_Since the bloody police certainly didn’t bother._

_Her DNA wasn’t even put in the database until we … the others … did it._

_Bloody h**l_.

“Let’s bring her home,” Clinton stated.

 _It’s about bloody time_.

* * *

[1] _Ice Baths and Cold Showers_ (Coming October 12).

[2] _Caesar_ , Chapter 3.

[3] <https://indigenousfoundations.arts.ubc.ca/the_residential_school_system/>

[4] Mentally, Kateri will sometimes refer to both her biological father and Clinton as Rakeni, the Mohawk word for father. I think it should be clear contextually to which man she is referring, but let me know if it isn’t.

[5] <http://www.native-languages.org/beadwork.htm>

[6] <http://www.native-languages.org/quillwork.htm>

[7] <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kateri_Tekakwitha>

[8] <https://owlcation.com/social-sciences/A-Mohawk-Valentine-Sacred-Marriage>

[9] <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Missing_and_murdered_Indigenous_women>

[10] <http://www.seasky.org/astronomy/astronomy-calendar-2020.html>

[11] <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ka-Bar>

[12] <https://www.ya-native.com/Culture_NortheastWoodlands/legends/themonsterbear.html>

[13] <https://www.firstpeople.us/FP-Html-Legends/Kanienkeh_How_The_Eagle_First_Came_To_The_People-Unknown.html>

[14] [https://www.firstvoices.com/explore/FV/sections/Data/Kanehsat%C3%A0:ke/Mohawk/‌Kanien'k%C3%A9ha%20(Mohawk)%20[Eng]/learn/stories/a3822d0d-ceca-4205-b5ea-2eadaa0544a1](https://www.firstvoices.com/explore/FV/sections/Data/Kanehsat%C3%A0:ke/Mohawk/Kanien'k%C3%A9ha%20\(Mohawk\)%20%5bEng%5d/learn/stories/a3822d0d-ceca-4205-b5ea-2eadaa0544a1)

[15] <https://www.firstpeople.us/FP-Html-Legends/TheBoyWhoLivedWithBears-Iroquois.html>


	6. Epilogue: Time to Go Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little short epilogue today, but coming up on August 5 is the story I know some of you have been waiting for: In the Beginning, the story of Kateri's first meeting with the team and (some of the) explanation of what the h**l has been going on upstairs in Organized Crime.

By the time the second full week of January had begun, Kateri felt it hard to believe that six weeks had already passed since she had been released from the hospital. _I almost died eight weeks ago!_ In some ways it felt like the time had dragged on and on, especially when the team left on cases and Kateri wasn’t with them or during the first weeks when _everything I did hurt like h**l, walking, sitting, breathing, for pity’s sake!!_ At the same time, especially now that Kateri and Clinton had had _the_ conversation that had been a long time coming— _I still can’t believe that neither of us saw the clues starring us right in the faces!!!_ —time seemed to have flown by, and the Skyes seemed like family now, and their home a second home, one which Kateri would be sad to leave, _as happy as I’ll still be to be back at my place in my own bed!_

Clinton drove Kateri to several doctor’s appointments that week, her six-ish week checkups, six-weeks being the average time that it took rib fractures to heal. _Most people just don’t end up with four broken ribs at the same time … unless you’re very unlucky or in a car crash or something_. Kateri came out of her appointment nearly dancing for joy— _internally!_ _Externally would be too undignified_. Her ribs were almost healed, and her incisions sites were healing well, also. Her doctor had lifted most of the restrictions, which she was under. _Basically, don’t do stupid, and if it hurts, just STOP!_

On the upside, Kateri was pleased that the extensive restrictions that she had been under for weeks were lifted. _One more step toward life going back to normal!_ No more restrictions meant that Kateri was also one step closer to getting off injury and returning to work. On the downside, no more restrictions meant that the whole reason Kateri had been staying with the Skyes— _not being able to cook for myself, clean for myself, do my own laundry, get my own groceries, etc._ —was no longer an issue. _I can go home, but …_ Kateri was now going to have to say goodbye to the Skyes with whom she had been staying since early December.

It was time to go home back to her apartment in the Bronx.

_I’m going to miss this place, though, as much as I want normalcy again._

_I’m going to miss you all._

In the past six weeks, Kateri’s life had entirely changed. The Skyes were now her second family, her almost-grandparents. Jess was still just Jess— _the boss_ —for now, but Tali had institute her place firmly at Kateri’s side as the new, favorite, little cousin— _not that I’d say the “l” word in her hearing. Most kids don’t appreciate the “l” word_. And Clinton … they were still partners and best friends, but their new relationship had now come alongside that, strengthening and nuancing it.

_A creature of habit, I might be, but this became a new normal quite quickly._

_I’m going to miss this place, seeing everyone every day …_

_Not that I’m not going to see them again any time soon_.

Kateri had no intentions of disappearing off the face of the earth and not seeing her second family now that she was healed … _mostly?_ Nelson and Marilou had given her a standing invitation to Sunday dinners whenever she wanted and whenever work did not get in the way. _And even with the drive from the Bronx to Glen Cove, there shouldn’t be a schedule problem with morning mass._ They had also informed her that she was welcome to drop by whenever she wanted or needed something … _day or night_ … and had even given her a spare key. _Open door policy!_

With her father’s permission, Tali also requested and was given Kateri’s personal cell-phone number so that the two could text—or call—if needed or when desired and keep in touch … until the next time Kateri could come over … _which will hopefully be sooner rather than later_.

It still amazed Kateri what changes to her life the past six weeks/two months had brought.

_Never knew it would take nearly dying for all this to happen._

_For all my dreams to come true._

_A second father._

_A second family._

_God works in mysterious ways_.


End file.
